A World for Gods
by BananaSwirl
Summary: After an unexpected turn of events, one child finds herself wandering the earth, another gets caught up in the deadly, decadent court of the Fire Nation, and the third struggles to avenge his family. A betrayed prince fights for his throne and the veil between earth and spirit realm grows thin. Inspired by a Game of Thrones.
1. Welcome to IcePoint

**Loosely inspired by the first book of the Song of Ice and Fire series: a Game of Thrones. I'm still wondering why I decided to start a new fic in the first place?**

* * *

_Yue_

The Southern air was cold and crisp, and had a lingering smell of fish and smoke. The sky was somewhere between gray and white and blue and the sea below the ship was blue in a way that Yue could not quite describe.

It did not look like home.

She pulled her parka closer to her body, but it was merely an unconscious gesture. She had Tribal blood, she could stand the freezing temperatures of the south pole. Her mother had once told her that the people of the North and South had ancestors that had been carved from ice. When others shied away from the cold, they embraced it.

Her ship eased closer to the dock, nestled easily between the carrier and military ships of the southernmost nation. From her position at the bow, Yue saw a cluster of blue and violet standing on the platform, awaiting the arrival of the northerner. She squinted at the group, trying to discern features. Five of the eight people were soldiers, she could tell that from the spears strapped to their backs and their posture. One of the others was a girl, she was smaller and wore a skirt under her parka.

The metal ramp at the prow of the began to descend towards the platform and Yue gripped the railing, feeling the cold metal through her gloves. She wondered if she should feel excited, being in the south for the first time in her life, but no such emotion came. Her father had told her it was to become more in touch with their sister nation, it was necessary and a proper princess would take such a task with pride.

"Are you ready, Princess?" A voice over her shoulder said and Yue nodded without looking up. Yugoda, her nurse and confidant. The old woman had been at Yue's side since she was baby and Yue couldn't imagine being without the woman. "I know this seems unfair, but it's for our tribe. And you've never been a weak woman, Yue. Remember you have the spirit blood in you."

Yue turned to face Yugoda, seeing the elderly woman's face crease into a sad smile. When she was younger, Yue had loved hearing the story of her birth, as selfish as it seemed. She had been born with a patron spirit, the Koi fish that was her family's symbol. The spirit had dyed her hair permanently white as a baby, causing her people to name her the Winter Princess. "Yes," Yue said, "I'm ready."

Yugoda took Yue's hand and the northern guards that accompanied them moved to their side. The old woman guided Yue down the ramp to the platform, towards the southerners that awaited them. As she placed her foot on the platform , Yue tugged her hand away. A true princess of the ice did not show uncertainty.

Two men and the girl broke away from the group and approached. The older man was tall and well-built, with dark skin and brown braids adorned with warrior beads. The other was perhaps a year younger than Yue and shared the same handsome looks with the older man- his father.

The last of the trio was the girl. She seemed to be on the cusp of womanhood, her eyes large with an unusual combination of both curiosity and suspicion. Yue wondered if she and the girl would get along, if southern girls were like those in her homeland. She wondered if this girl would make her life in the south worse than it would already be.

"Princess Yue," The man addressed her and put his forearm across his chest in a salute to her. The clasp of his parka was carved in the shape of a Polar Bear Dog, the family symbol. "Welcome to our tribe. I am Chief Hakoda," he gestured to the younger boy, "this is my son, Sokka, and my daughter, Katara."

The chief's children seemed to study her. Sokka, the son, was the first to soften his features and smile. His sister stared at Yue with scrutiny before grinning, as if deciding that this strange princess was welcome in her land. Yue's shoulders relaxed in relief.

Yue dipped into a respectful bow and saluted all of them. Her mother had told her that the southerners would seem odd yet familiar, and Yue decided that was true. "I am honored to be here," she said and held her chin up.

Hakoda looked beyond her, at the sea, and Yue noted that he and Katara had the same eyes. "The guard will ensure that your possessions arrive to your rooms in the palace. You'll have to walk, the south doesn't have the luxury of canals to carry us everywhere in the city."

Yue thought she heard something sharper in his voice, something like disdain and mockery but she wasn't sure. She looked at the chief's children again and saw no signs of malice in their features. Perhaps, Yue thought, this year in the south would not be so bad.

The chief's guards surrounded them as they moved off the platform and onto the hard-packed snow. Yue looked towards Yugoda, who smiled encouragingly. The northern princess stepped closer to the southerners. Sokka looked at her. "You're welcome here," he said, "just wait until the evening feast, you'll see."

Katara nodded in affirmation. "Our dad told us you were coming a while ago," she said, "but we're not for much fanfare. But I suppose you already knew that."

Yue listened to the crunch of the snow and ice under her boots. The sharp smell of fish and meat was not so apparent anymore and Yue figured that perhaps they had left its source behind or her nose had simply gotten use to the scent.

The ice road before her opened and Yue looked up. Before her was the south's citadel, carved from ice and stone, weathered by countless winters. It was gray and white against the blue sky, a harsh contrast that did not quite become an eyesore. It seemed to fit, Yue thought, in a strange way.

"Welcome to IcePoint," Sokka said. "In all its frigid glory."

"Katara," Hakoda said and his daughter turned to him. "Why don't you show Yue and her nurse to their chambers? Your brother and I will attend to another matter."

The young tribal princess nodded and as the massive entrance of the citadel opened, she gestured for Yue and the old woman to follow her. She led them inside, her boots moving over the gray stone floor. She shed her parka as she walked, throwing it over her shoulders. Yue did the same, instead draping her coat over her forearm.

"Your chambers are across the courtyard," Katara explained as she led them around a corner, running her fingers along the smooth walls. "They're facing the moonrise, I thought you might like that."

"Yes," Yue admitted and she decided that IcePoint was well enough. The palace had none of the elegance of her home, none of the extravagance that the North was known for. The palace in the North was tiered and beautiful, sparkling when the sunlight hit the ice. This place, and the city surrounding it, had been built for necessity.

Katara stopped before a door and pressed her hand against it. "This is the entrance to your chamber," she said, "your nurse can stay across the hall," she pointed before opening the door of Yue's suite.

The first room was small and plain, with only a low table to fill it. Katara stepped through it and guided Yue to her bedroom. It was much larger in comparison, and Yue found that someone had taken the time to elaborately design the room.

The room was royal blue and violet, with white Koi fish dancing along the walls. The single window faced the open land beyond the citadel, exposing the snow and far beyond that, the mountains of the south. Yue ran her hands along the wall, feeling her breath hitch. "It's lovely."

Katara shrugged, "It was partly Sokka's idea, especially the Koi fish. After Dad told us you were coming, he said we should try to make you feel welcome. It must be weird, so far away from home."

"I've traveled around the world," Yue said and Katara raised her eyebrows. "It wasn't terrible, though. I spent most of the time learning about healing from Yugoda."

At that, Katara seemed to listen. "You're a bender?" She asked and it was only then that Yue noticed the leather pouch at her hip. "You can waterbend?"

"No," Yue said and the southerner seemed to deflate. "Are you?"

"Yes!" Katara said and smiled, "my father is letting me learn combat bending like the warriors, I heard that girls aren't allowed to learn how to fight in the north. Is that true?"

Yue nodded and Katara pulled a face. "That's not fair," she said, "We're just as capable." She made a spiraling gesture with her wrist and the water from her leather pouch slithered out, hovering in the air just above her hands.

Part of Yue felt as though she was watching something forbidden. To even consider teaching a girl to fight was wrong in the north and Yue had never questioned it. Her father would have never allowed her to do such a thing, not even when she had been touched by the moon spirit.

Katara guided the water back into her pouch. "What's the north like?" She asked and sat on Yue's bed, smoothing out the wrinkles around her.

Yue considered her answer for a moment. "It's different," she said, "It's...pleasing to the eye and to the spirit. We have a lot of rituals and festivals for the spirits, expecially in winter and summer. It's home." She shrugged, "sure the roles are more traditional, girls can't fight and most marriages are arranged but...it's home."

"My parents had an arranged marriage," Katara said, "kind of. My grandparents arranged for them to meet each other, because everyone knew they would fall in love." Her face seemed to fall. "According to what I've been told. My mother died when I was little."

That explained why Yue had not seen the chief's wife. "I'm sorry," she said and wondered if Katara resembled her mother, whoever she might have been.

Katara touched a leather choker at her neck, brushing the stone pendant. Yue figured that it had been her mother's. "It's okay. There's lot of women to take her place, like my grandmother and her friend. It wasn't so bad. We're Polar Bear Dogs, we're a pack, we stick together."

Yue reached for Katara's hand, taking note of the differing shades of brown. Her nails were long and carefully shaped, as opposed to the nonchalant filing on Katara's. "Care to show me around IcePoint?"

The younger tribal princess looked up and stood. "Of course. You have to see the height of IcePoint and then a polar dog just had a litter, you can pick one out if you'd like. You'll be here long enough to see it grow up."

Yue was not particularly fond of polar dogs, but she agreed nonetheless. The year would not be so long, she told herself, it would not be so long.


	2. The South Will Stand

_Hakoda_

The phoenix insignia screamed against the parchment, red and orange against the smooth, pale yellow.

Hakoda stared at the parchment, feeling his son's gaze on him. Sokka could not quite see over his shoulder and for that, he was grateful. He looked up. Across the room, his confidant Bato watched his face.

"What does it say?"

The house of Sozin encompassed most of the known world, though it had splintered into two separate branches twenty years ago. The Crown Prince Iroh had been killed and his young son had been forced into exile into some unknown place. Most people figured the child was long dead, his significance remembered only by those who had supported his father. The new leader of the house and lord of the empire was the Crown Prince's brother, Ozai.

It was his symbol that Hakoda now saw, a phoenix rising from its ashes to fly once more. Hakoda thought there was some irony in it all, that a phoenix must destroy its own family to come into power.

"A modest proposal," He answered and Sokka leaned closer to him, "the king wants us to join him in a permanent alliance." He looked at the letter as he spoke, the black characters beginning to blur and melt together. "So that we can mutually benefit. Ozai is willing to network a vital trade in the south pole, in exchange for the right to use our land for spiritual purposes."

Sokka scoffed. "What are firebenders going to do in ice? What kind of spirits are they trying to worship?"

Hakoda frowned. "I imagine they want to do more than worship," he said and he could see the rapid thoughts flashing across his son's face. "Once they get a foot in the south, they'll want to take it for good." He had never seen Ozai, but Hakoda figured that he was a man who knew the stories of the known world.

"He'd make the south pole into a province," Sokka said and furrowed his brow, "and make us dependent on his trade. Like the airbenders."

The four main nations of the known world existed in relative harmony and while technically connected, they thrived on their own. They had once been separate entities, but many years ago, the Fire Nation had brought them together. The Water Tribes occupied the poles, and massive sprawl of the Earth Kingdoms lay in between. The nomadic airbenders were the only nation that had been nearly swept up in the Fire Nation's trade monopoly.

"You're going to say no, right?" Sokka asked and Hakoda thought that he resembled his mother when he furrowed his brow. Sokka had Kya's eyes and expression, and sometimes Hakoda heard him say things that reminded him of Kya and he decided that his children were more Kya than they were him.

" A Polar Bear Dog does not bend to the will of a bird," Hakoda said and his son nodded. "Now, go find your sister and Princess Yue...and Sokka, don't try to woo the princess."

Sokka let out a dramatized sigh and left the room with flourish. Hakoda watched as he disappeared and then exhaled. He had agreed to accept the Northern Water Tribe princess as his ward for a year, mostly as a political agreement and partly for his daughter to have someone close to her age. He figured she would adjust to the south soon enough and the year would go by smoothly.

"The phoenix is not just a bird," Bato said, breaking Hakoda's pattern of thoughts. "Ozai killed his own brother for the throne."

Hakoda pushed the letter aside. "Dragons flinch under a phoenix's talons but we do not," he said, "I do not fear Ozai, no matter how many of his brothers and nephews he may have killed. I will tell him of my refusal and that will be the end of it."

Bato nodded and Hakoda stood. "You must finish preparing for the evening feast," he said. " We wouldn't want the princess to think that our chief is ill-prepared."

The southern chief shook his head. "I've come to realize that all northerners think we're primitive when it comes to culture, but I'm sure our new guest will come to think otherwise." Hakoda had visited the north pole in his adolescence and he had thought them to be socially backwards with their strict gender rules and traditions, the south would seem just as odd to Yue.

Hakoda exited the chamber and strode towards the wing of IcePoint where the kitchen lay. They had always given the leftovers to the people of the street, a gesture that Hakoda's mother had started when she had been the chief's wife. Hakoda had made a point of making his children participate in giving away the leftovers.

Because one day, Hakoda thought, they would need the city to know and love them.

The kitchens smelled of smoked fish and imported vegetables. Hakoda inhaled deeply as he stepped among the chaos of the preparations. There was the clatter of plates and a serving boy nearly stumbled into him as he carried bowls and plates to the dining hall. Hakoda steadied him and instead backed away, allowing the workers to finish their preparation.

"I still don't understand why the Princess's hair is white," Bato said as he trailed Hakoda. "I've never seen white hair on someone so young. She can't be more than sixteen or seventeen."

Hakoda waved his hand. "The mysterious work of the spirits," he said. He did not dare question the things that he did not understand. "The moon spirit saw fit to bless her."

Bato seemed satisfied with his answer, or lack thereof, and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He was a tall and lanky man, with a long face and aquiline nose. "Remarkable," he said and made move to continue, but as he opened his mouth, there was a commotion from the next hall.

Hakoda darted towards the noise, turning the corner sharply. As he did so, a mass of gray and white barreled him over, laying him flat onto the floor. Round, large paws pressed against his chest and a flat tongue scraped against his cheek. Hakoda looked up into the face of a polar dog, who looked down at him gleefully.

A girl's hands pulled the young dog off of him and Hakoda saw his daughter cradling the pup to her chest, looking at him apologetically. "Sorry!" She said, "he ran away before we could catch him." She held the pup up as Hakoda pushed himself to his feet and he saw that it was one of the new pups, only five weeks old but already large enough to bowl a man over.

Behind her came Sokka and the Princess Yue. Sokka held a thin rope leashes attached to another polar dog, just as large but not nearly as wild. Sokka made a clicking noise and the gray and white pup wriggled from Katara's arms and trotted over to him. "Desna," he said as the pup pressed his nose into his boot. Sokka passed the rope leash to Yue, who accepted it tentatively.

The pup at the end of the leash sat neatly next to Yue and Hakoda concluded that it was hers. Katara grinned. "Yue picked her out on her own."

Hakoda nodded. The other was Sokka's, even though his children had several other polar dogs. They had made a habit of selecting a pup from a litter, introducing it to their "pack". Desna, Hakoda figured, was merely the newest addition. "You should start preparing for this evening," he said to them, "it'll be a public feast."

As the teenagers continued down the hall, Bato shook his head at Hakoda. "You spoiled those two," he chuckled, "you let them run around IcePoint with all kinds of animals and weapons, and you let your daughter fight with men."

The Water Tribe chief scoffed. "That hardly counts as spoiled. They're true tribal children, they embraced every aspect of being Water Tribe." He reached into the folds of his tunic, revealing a bone dagger. "I see nothing wrong with carrying a weapon, and Katara is just as much of a warrior as the men. You sound like a northerner with that argument." He had allowed Katara and Sokka to have relative freedom as children, much to the chagrin of some of the more traditional nurses. Sokka was both a scholar and a warrior, and Katara had never been content to wait for a husband to return from the hunt.

Bato shrugged. "You Polar Bear Dogs won't be tamed," he muttered and Hakoda agreed.

* * *

The doors to Icepoint's dining hall were thrown open. First arrived the esteemed elders and their families, sitting at the tables closest to the center table. Merchants were next and then the common people, filling in the open space in the dining hall's pavilion. They were dressed in their finest, deepest blue clothes, having prepared for the feast just as much as the citadel servants had. Guards mingled among them, hands just near their bone daggers or knives, eyes watchful.

Hakoda saw Sokka among them from where he stood at the inside entrance of the dining hall. His son was a warrior before he was a prince, and had insisted on helping protect the hall. He wore his official cloak, adorned with their symbol and Hakoda knew that if anyone wanted to attack the prince, he would be an easy target. Hakoda had no such fear, however, because everyone knew that he would have no qualms about killing anyone who dared harm his children.

"There's so many people," Hakoda heard Princess Yue say to Katara behind him. "When we had feasts, only nobility dined with us on the first tier of the palace." He looked over his shoulder at the two and then turned back to face the crowd. He strode towards the center table, followed by the girls and Yue's nurse, Yugoda.

The warriors began to howl in an imitation of the wolves and polar bear dogs of the south and he howled back at them before saluting the elders. Among them was his mother, Kanna. She had come from the north alone, traveling through strange lands and Hakoda once remembered his father saying that he had never seen a woman as beautiful and peculiar and strong as Kanna.

Kya came close, Hakoda thought.

Yugoda made a sharp sound and Hakoda turned quickly, along with the closest warriors. He prepared to pull the princesses away, only to see that the old woman had wrapped her arms around Kanna, her face pressed into her hair.

Hakoda sat and nearly laughed aloud. "It seems as though my mother and your nurse were once friends in the north," he explained to the Northern princess.

Both Katara and Yue looked surprised and the two older women chuckled. Hakoda found he was not particularly interested in the anecdotes of elderly women at the moment.

Kanna may have been a northerner in her youth but her eyes were the watchful ones of a polar bear dog. She met Hakoda's gaze and mouthed: what troubles you?

The phoenix, he answered and he saw the realization rippling over her face. Hakoda promised her he would explain later and his mother nodded.

Sokka weaved through the crowd and sat between Katara and their father. He set his boomerang on the table and Katara made a disapproving noise. When Sokka had turned twelve, Hakoda had allowed him to own his first weapon. The boy had chosen a boomerang, a choice that had made Hakoda raise his brows, but he was a natural. "I'm starving!"

"You're always hungry," Katara said and Hakoda shot a warning glance at both of his children. They would not bicker at the welcoming feast, he warned them and they shrunk back into their seats.

"I'm a growing boy," Sokka snapped and Hakoda glared at his son. Across the table, the Princess Yue giggled.

Hakoda stood and the dining hall fell silent. Hundreds of eyes rose to stare at him, various shades of blue and the occasional brown or gray. "My brothers and sisters," he began, "We feast and celebrate tonight for the arrival of Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe. She will spend a year amongst us and we welcome her tonight," he gestured to the princess. "We are the people of the snow and of the ice, of the north and south," he was reminded of the letter and its blaring symbol, and its demands and he looked out at his people. "And the South will stand!"

The warriors threw back their heads and howled. Beside him, Sokka and Katara joined. They were true children of the south and he knew that Kya would be proud of him, and of their children.

The cooks began to pass the plates to the tables, followed by the large trays that had been loaded with the foods. Among the meats were arctic-oxen and smoked fish stew, alongside fruits imported from parts of the closest Earth Kingdom.

Hakoda piled food onto his place and spoon stew into his bowl. Sokka devoured his food while Katara ate slower, watching her brother with her eyes narrowed in disdain. The northern princess watched them all, as if unsure of her behavior.

"I was informed that you have a brother back in the north," Hakoda said to the princess and she nodded. "Is he older than you?"

She shook her head and the ornament in her white braids gleamed in the light. "No, Kuruk is six. He would've been here instead, but my father wanted him to begin training. He's going to be chief." She smiled in a thin way that did not reach her eyes, "My parents waited ten years for a son to inherit the North, they wouldn't want to part with him so quickly."

It was an unspoken agreement that a woman could not become chief. Katara had once angrily questioned him as a child, though Hakoda had no answer for her. There were things that were to be questioned and things that were not, there were simply things that _were._

There were things that Hakoda knew to be true and there were things that were as certain as the blood in his veins. He knew the south and the Southern Water Tribe would stand, and that no phoenix - no bird- could ever make it bend to his will.


	3. Listening

_Lu-Ten_

"You will still marry me, yes?" The woman tapped impatiently on his shoulder, snapping his concentration. She looked at him expectantly, the red paint on her face drawing out her wide brown eyes. "Before the sun and the sunrise?"

He looked at her. By Sun People standards, she was lovely. She was thick of body yet shapely, with brown hair cascading down her back, except for the sides of her head which had been shaved, and sun-browned skin. "I will marry you," he said and turned back to sharpening his knife, "as sure as the sun rises. But now, Yaretzi, I must work."

Yaretzi watched him and he tried to avoid the heat of her gaze. She was younger than him, no more than seventeen summers, and he had remembered that she had always wandered after him as a child. "But perhaps the sun does not rise anymore?" She asked and tucked her legs under her, reaching for his knife and holding it out. "This isn't sharp enough. However are you supposed to be a warrior with a dull knife like this?"

"The sun will always rise. What do you want, Yaretzi?" He asked and snatched the blade back, wrinkling his nose. He saw her nostrils flare and her jaw set, and found himself regretting his harsh tone. "Why are you questioning me?"

The young woman gestured upwards, to the massive rock structures towering over their village. "I heard the dragons," she said. "This morning as the sun rose, I heard them roar." As if reading the disbelief on his features, Yaretzi snorted. "I heard them."

"I imagine you did," he said and he did not doubt her. No one outside of their village knew of the existence of dragons, no one knew of the Sun People. The dragons of the Twin Caves were often silent for months on end before returning to the valley in which they hunted. "They will go on a great hunt, soon."

Yaretzi's brown eyes met his. The elders said he had captured the sunrise in his eyes as a baby, coloring them gold. "Maybe you can follow them, to prove you are truly a Sun Warrior. Then we can marry, as sure as the sun rises."

Lu-Ten held up his knife and examined it. "I'm a Sun Warrior and a Person of the Sun just as much as you," he said sharper than he expected. He thrust his hand under her face, "my skin is paler, but our blood is the same. That has been proven, I am a Sun Warrior as sure as the sun rises." He rose from his crouching position and slide his blade into its sheath.

"Yaretzi!" A woman called and Lu-Ten saw Yaretzi's mother approaching them. She had her youngest child swaddled against her chest, a boy that been born the summer before. "I've been looking for you." She snatched Yaretzi by her arm and pulled her backwards. "Don't be a nuisance, besides you have somewhere else to be."

Tuwa was everyone's mother. She had borne several children, including Yaretzi and the baby, but she was known throughout the valley as a healer. The flames she produced from her hands had a way of comfort and healing that Lu-Ten had experienced several times as a child. He dipped his head to her and Tuwa made a clicking noise with her tongue. "I'm certain Yaretzi has been harassing you, she's been trying to avoid cleaning the temple."

Yaretzi made an indignant sound. "I wanted to make sure Lu-Ten would still marry me," she said and Tuwa looked over her daughter's head at him.

Tuwa pulled a face and jerked her head. "Go attend to your duties," she said and Yaretzi set off towards the part of the surrounding jungle where their temple of worship was hidden. She watched the girl and then turned back to Lu-Ten. "She's a persistent girl. I suppose she has told you that she heard the dragons?"

Lu-Ten nodded.

"I spoke with the spirits of the sky," Tuwa said, "and they told me that their emergence is a sign. They said the dragon will take the skies again and bring a new age." She eyed him curiously.

For a moment, Lu-Ten found his thoughts consumed by memories of a man lifting him from his bed and carrying him to a boat, of reaching out desperately for the same man, who slapped his hand away and smiled. For a long time, he had wondered if it was a bad dream.

"I've been a Person of the Sun for twenty years, Tuwa. My family left power when my father died, what new age could I bring?" He moved to step away from her and Tuwa caught his hand. "I am no dragon."

Tuwa nodded. "Perhaps that is so," she said. Her child began to whimper and she patted its head. "Go to the temple at sunset," she told him, "and listen." She turned from him and Lu-Ten watched her walk away. She had once been an attendant to the Sun Temple, like Yaretzi, but she had long since become a healer and firebending trainer, and a mother for many.

She had been one of the first to teach him the ways of the Sun People when he was three year old. He had cried for many days, he remembered, and she had held him and attended to his scratches. She had taught him how to show thanks to Agni, the great spirit-god of the sky, and showed him the healing powers of firebending. She was, like the rest of the Sun People, his family.

There was a whooping shout and Lu-Ten caught sight of the warriors gathering with their bows and spears. At the front, he saw Tonatiuh, the chief of the Sun People. He was young to be the chief, only thirty summers, but had proven his strength and passion. Lu-Ten had aspired to be like Tonatiuh as a child, though as he grew older he found him to more of a brother than idol.

As Lu-Ten jogged over to join them, Tonatiuh turned and flashed a bold, white grin. He reached behind him and tossed a spear to Lu-Ten, laughing as he caught it. "I thought perhaps we would have to leave you behind," he said. " We're going to look for signs of the leopon. I've been told they lurk close by."

Lu-Ten nodded and playfully shoved another of the hunters, a small man called Lallo. He was another of Tuwa's children and the same age as Lu-Ten. "I bet it's ten times bigger than you, Lallo."

The shorter man pulled a face. "Perhaps," he said and chuckled, pushing Lu-Ten back a step. "But sometimes the ant can bring down the beast."

"With an army," Tonatiuh said as he stepped closer to them. He was a tall man, taller even than Lu-Ten, and broad. His head was mostly shaven, save for the black hair bound into a knot and was adorned in red ocher tattoos. "An ant cannot survive without its family, like we Sun Warriors can't survive without our people." He grinned, "let's find the leopon."

They fell into formation, Tonatiuh at the lead with his blood brother and closest friend on either side of him. Lu-Ten fell in behind them with Lallo and the younger or less successful warriors followed suit. They jogged towards the main exit of the city complex, falling in step with each other.

The jungle outside of their city was unforgiving to outsiders. Sun People legend claimed that the first Sun Warriors could hear the voices of the jungle and learned to adapt to them, before learning from the dragons about the universe. Lu-Ten figured that it would seem odd and dangerous to an outsider, especially one who did not understand the feeling of the ground and trees and the wind against their skin. Lu-Ten did not remember anything but the jungle and the Sun People ziggurat, and the city built around it.

"Mother told me about Yaretzi," Lallo said and looked up at Lu-Ten. "She said that Yaretzi felt she was old enough to be married, and you had promised her." He chuckled, "she even asked for my approval."

Lu-Ten laughed at the same time he exhaled. "I told her I would marry her as sure as the sun rises, I intend to keep my promise." He felt the soft, cool earth under his feet and the slight tickle of undergrowth against his legs. "Then we will truly be brothers."

Lallo made a sound of agreement. He called out to Tonatiuh, up ahead of them. "You'll have to lead us into another hunting rite soon, Tonatiuh, Lu-Ten here will be married."

The chief looked back at them, not slowing his pace. "So I have heard," he grinned, "Perhaps this leopon should be used for your wedding robe. Or maybe some other beast." Tonatiuh's own wedding cloak had been a fine tiger gorilla, a large creature that prowled the jungle floor and trees. His wedding had been one of the grandest ones that Lu-Ten remembered, Tonatiuh had wed a beautiful woman on an auspicious day and the entire city had celebrated.

The hunting party separated into groups of twos and threes. Lu-Ten turned his feet to the east and slowed into a creep, hearing the sounds of the dense forest around him. There were many shades of green in the jungle, and other colors but Lu-Ten found that green, above all, was the most abundant.

He crept forward, brushing aside a massive fern. The soft earth shifted under his feet and Lu-Ten began to listen. He listened to the song of birds and insects, to the yips and shouts of rat monkeys in the trees above him.

When Lu-Ten listened closer, however, he thought he could just barely make out the sound of hooves crushing grass.

Lallo slithered by him and disappeared into the undergrowth, sliding underneath the upraised roots of a tree. Lu-Ten followed, moving into place beside his friends. Lallo pointed and through the dense green of the vegetation, Lu-Ten saw a thick bodied creature covered in brown and black rosettes.

"The leopon," Lallo whispered and Lu-Ten caught sight of the massive creature. It was truly huge and feline, its golden brown fur spotted with rosettes and its huge muscles coiled under its coat.

Unlike the rest of the ground - dwelling animals, the leopon did not have to camouflage. Afterall, who would dare challenge such a beast?

The leopon lashed its great tail and growled deep in its throat. Lu-Ten clutched his spear and prepared to move, but Lallo pulled him back. "One does not simply attack a leopon," he whispered fiercely. "The leopon is the king of the forest floor."

Lu-Ten lowered his spear and considered Lallo's words. There would be the chance that he missed and the leopon would attack, without the help of the others they would surely be killed. After a pause, he nodded. "We'll set a trap near its den."

Lallo agreed and eased backwards through the grass and the dirt and the ferns. He straightened and used his spearhead to carve a deep mark in the tree's trunk. "The leopon lurks here, we can set traps first thing in the morning."

Lu-Ten thought he heard the heavy snap of twigs behind them as they continued through the forest. "We could catch some fruit monkeys," he said, "so we won't return empty handed."

His shorter companion made no comment, but instead pointed upward to the tree branches. A small group of fruit monkeys perched on them, devouring the rich red fruit of the trees they inhabited. They seemed unsuspecting, caught up in eating and Lu-Ten wondered if it was truly right to attack them.

Every life had a beginning and end, he thought, some must die so others may live. The Sun Warriors had taught him this.

Lu-Ten raised his spear and steadied his arm, aiming for the largest fruit monkey. He looked at Lallo, who had aimed at another. Lu-Ten hurled the spear, watching as it met its mark. The fruit monkey fell towards the earth and he dove to catch it.

The fruit monkey was snapped up in a set of massive jaws, wrenched from the spear. The other fruit monkeys scattered and the beast roared, turning to face Lu-Ten. He found himself staring into large amber eyes, eyes both predatory and intelligent. Lu-Ten lowered his gaze and the leopon growled before springing away, back into the trees with a flick of its thick tail.

Lallo cursed and laughed at the same time. "He's challenged you, you must hunt him now," he said and retrieved their spears. "He said there can only be one hunter." He sighed, "I suppose we'll have to have Tuwa's soup tonight."

Lu-Ten nodded absently and looked up through the tree canopy. The sky was beginning to become a stained red as the sun began to set, sending red streaks through the fading blue sky. He remembered what Tuwa had told him to do. "I have to go to the temple," he said and before Lallo could respond, he took off through the undergrowth.

The Sun Temple was the greatest of all the buildings. It had been created millennia ago, cut from stone and carefully laid together until the structure burst through the tree tops. Lu-Ten approached the base of it, which extended far into the forest. He saw the dark gray stone blocks settled into the earth and the stone steps that led into the temple.

He took off his sandals and stepped onto the first stair, feeling the coolness of the rock course up through him. The area surrounding the temple was cool and dark, and quiet and Lu-Ten wondered how the temple attendants could stand the eerie feeling of it all.

He walked up the steps and bowed his head as he entered the first chamber of the temple. In the dark corners, he saw eyes that had been carved in the wall and inlaid with gold so that they glittered in the light. Lu-Ten conjured a flame from his hand and flashed the light over the room.

In the center of the chamber stood two statues. The first was off a tall and powerful man, with a dragon wrapped around his shoulders, its whiskers brushing his jaw. He was the Father of the Sun Warriors, Tenochizun and the protector of the jungle. Beside him was the Mother, Citlali, who protected the sky and the stars and loved the dragons. Lu-Ten dropped into a kowtow, feeling their stone gaze bore into him.

He approached Tenochizun and used his bending to light the wicker that served as the dragon's tongue. The stone dragon's mouth came alight and Lu-Ten saw the intricate details of its snout and Tenochizun's face. He went next to Citlali and lit the bowl in her hands and the wreath in her hair. They flared and the chambers darkest corners became dimly lit.

Lu-Ten laid his head at the Mother's feet and closed his eyes. He exhaled and let his muscles relax, instead feeling only the cool stone beneath him and the warmth of the fire above him.

And then, Lu-Ten began to listen.

Tenochizun and Citlali came to life, calling his name. Tenochizun sounded every bit like a Father and Citlali's voice seemed to encompass everything lovely in the world. He felt their voices glide over his skin like water, dancing across his muscles and his bones until it pierced his very core.

"You are a Sun Warrior," said Tenochizun.

"You are the dragon," said Citlali.

"You have the ancestors of the Sun People and of the Fire Nation in your veins," They said together, "twenty years ago, a great injustice was done to you. You must embrace your right as the Lord of the Fire Nation and win back your throne. Make this earth once again a world for gods." Their voices became entwined until Lu-Ten could not tell them apart, until they became one omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent entity. "It is your right."

The dragon roared and Lu-Ten felt and saw it more than he heard it. It rattled his bones and chilled his blood, and he clenched his teeth. Lu-Ten cried out and dug his nails into the stone, curling up into a ball.

Then there was silence.

Lu-Ten opened his eyes, finding only darkness around him. The fire had winked out, leaving only a thin tendril of smoke from each of the statues. He pushed himself into a sitting position and held his head in his hands. Tuwa had not told him that listening would be so odd and painful. He stood and staggered toward the exit, catching sight of a small flame.

Yaretzi sat at the entrance of the temple, gazing out into the forest. As he stepped out beside her, she looked up. "Mother told me to wait for you," she said and stood, dusting off her skirt. "She said you might need someone."

"The spirits said I must make the world for the gods," he said before he could catch himself. Yaretzi's brown eyes did not seem confused or alarmed, but instead were understanding and aged, and for a brief moment Lu-Ten forgot she was only seventeen. "I don't know what that means."

The girl pushed his sandals towards him. "I know," she said, "it means that the thing taken away from you will be given back. You are a Sun Warrior, but you are something else, too. You will get what you deserve, as sure as the sun rises." She took his hand and smiled gently, "let's get home."

* * *

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	4. The Village

_Katara_

"Fetch, Aga!" Katara shouted and used her bending to hurl the ice disk across the courtyard. She watched as the pure white polar dog dashed after the disk, leaping into the air and grabbing it with her teeth. "Bring it back!"

Aga was one of the first dogs her father had allowed them to raise and the newest litter had been hers, including Sokka's new pet Desna. Katara had always liked Aga the best, she was quiet and often trailed after her, laying her head in Katara's lap.

The black and white arctic canine brought the ice disk back to Katara and dropped it at her feet. She swished her tail and let out a yip, moving in circles around Katara's legs. Katara heard the crunch of snow behind her and turned to see Princess Yue picking her away across the courtyard, pulled by her own pup.

Katara liked Yue. She was docile and quiet, traits that Katara had never been able to acquire, and kind. In the three weeks that she had been in the Southern Water Tribe, she had taken up helping in the local infirmary.

"I thought you said she was the gentle one of the litter," Yue said and pulled hard on the white pup's leash, only to be dragged forward. "She's always dragging me around." She let go of the leash and the pup raced over to her mother.

The southern girl shrugged. "Let her walk free," she said, "She's a hunting animal, not an accessory. You don't have polar dogs up north?"

Yue shrugged. "They're much smaller, and I never had one," Katara thought that the North was stranger than she originally assumed. "I think Tui can tell I'm nervous."

Katara clicked her tongue and both Aga and Tui trotted over to her. She undid the rope leash and tossed it aside, ruffling Tui's ears. She was of a good line, built for pulling sleds or scouting long distances. Someone would've paid a good price for her. "Probably," she said and Tui put her paws on her knee. "You've had her for three weeks and you haven't gotten to know her yet." She reached next for Aga, who licked her affectionately. "I've had Aga for four years, since she was a pup."

The northern princess nodded slowly. She knelt down and imitated the same clicking noise that Katara had used earlier. It sounded odd, but Katara figured it would improve. "Come here, Tui."

The white pup looked at Yue and wagged her tail, as if amused. She trotted over to the princess and wagged her tail, sniffing her boot. Katara grinned. "See, she likes you."

With a sweep of her hand, Katara formed another ice disk. She extended it to Yue, watching as the white-haired princess accepted it with her delicate, gloved hands. Katara thought that Yue was very beautiful. She was tall and slender, with soft brown features and pure white hair pinned up in elaborate braids. Her eyes were blue and wide, almost as round as moon.

"Tell her to fetch," she said and watched as Yue flung the ice disk across the courtyard. Tui dashed after it, leaping into the air and crunching the ice between her teeth. Katara laughed. "It was a good start."

Yue nodded and called the polar dog back to her. Katara stood and gestured for Aga to follow her back to her nest. "Do you actually hunt with the dogs you keep?"

"Well Sokka does because he's older," Katara explained, "Aga isn't much of a hunter or a sled dog, though." She felt the dog's head bump into her. "Desna is going to be the next hunting one, when Amarok gets old." Where Aga was Katara's favorite, Amarok was Sokka's. "You ever been hunting?"

The older princess shook her head. "Girls aren't allowed to where I'm from," she explained. "That's a man's task, not a woman's."

Katara pulled a face. "It's the same here, in a way. Girls aren't allowed to go on big hunts, but we can fish and trap," she said, "just because my family is royalty doesn't mean we're above the others. We just had prosperous ancestors." Her father had always told her that was the spirit-gods gave, they could also take away. They didn't just believe in the spirit-gods, they feared.

When Aga was carefully returned to her nest, Katara led Yue back to the entrance back into their stronghold. "I'm supposed to be helping the village outside of IcePoint, do you want to come?" She had been told that her mother used to do the same, though Katara didn't remember.

Yue nodded and Katara led her through the stone and ice halls of IcePoint. When the sun was at its zenith in the summer, it would reflect light through the ceilings and into the halls, something that Katara had always found to be very lovely. The halls on the southern wing, though were often empty and quiet. Katara remembered chasing Sokka though the halls as children, screeching in laughter. She remembered a woman who must've been her mother waiting to scoop them up in her arms.

Kya, her mother, had died when Katara was four and Sokka was five. Katara only had a vague recollection of her, a sketch that was brought to life by the stories and memories that her family gave her. According to her father, her mother had been wild (she had sometimes gone hunting with the men) and beautiful. According to Gran-Gran, her mother had been peculiar but compassionate, always helping people who were less fortunate. And Bato had told her that Kya could wrestle an arctic leopard into submission when she was angry.

As a child, Katara had imagined that her mother would come back and see how she had grown. Her nurses had told her that it was wrong to speak of bringing back the dead. Sokka, who was more fueled by logic than she, told her that it was impossible anyway.

They entered the main halls. There were servants wandering about and a few warriors that Katara recognized as Sokka's companions. One of them caught sight of her and grinned. "There's the littlest princess," he said and Katara rolled her eyes. He had always teased her as a child, calling her "girl-boy" and "otterface" when she tried to join the boys in their games and Katara had only called him "Yak" for his bullish nature.

The older boy stood before them, leaning against the wall. "You know, I haven't seen you in a while," he turned his gaze to Yue, "and I haven't seen you at all."

"Because Yue is the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe and she doesn't have time for underachieving warriors." She instantly began to regret her words, wincing as they seemed to fall harshly from her lips and shatter against the floor. She bit her bottom lip.

Yak raised his brows and seemed more amused than offended. He saluted Yue, "A beautiful woman indeed," he said and the older princess gave a small, shy, smile. "Hopefully you'll enjoy your time in the south."

Yue nodded and to Katara, it seemed as though she wasn't impressed. Warriors in the Northern Water Tribe were probably dressed in finer clothes, more nobility than they were hunters and defenders. They would outshine the bullish teenager, though Katara figured it wouldn't be that difficult. Still, she thought, everyone in the south was valuable, from the children to the elders. Even Yak, no matter how much he irritated her.

Katara found a bit of satisfaction when Tui attacked the boy's boot. He shrieked and scrambled away, looking wildly at Yue and then Katara. He detached the polar dog from him and moved to a safe distance, away from the girls. Katara looked at Yue.

The white-haired princess wore a facial expression that seemed to be somewhere between amusement and embarrassment. "I hope Tui didn't ruin his boots," she said and gave the pup a stern look of disapproval.

"He'll be alright," Katara shrugged. They passed through the large doors of IcePoint, guarded by warriors. Sokka had told her that having warriors guarding the citadel entrance was only a symbol, no one would dare attack the royal family. It was illegal, he had told her, and that some of the tribe's strongest warriors had come from their family line.

They were the Polar Bear Dogs, one of the fiercest beasts of the south.

As they stepped onto the ground, Yue suddenly looked around. "You're not taking an escort to the village?"

Katara paused and grimaced. As she did so, there was the sound of heavy hooves crunching the snow. Approaching them were two buffalo-yak, a type of beast brought from the north pole. They were followed by a young man on an arctic camel, holding the reins of a second in his left hand.

The first buffalo-yak was manned by Sokka, Katara's brother, and on either side of him were his two polar dogs, Desna and Amarok. Sokka grinned as he guided the second buffalo-yak forward. "Did someone say escort?"

Katara looked behind her to see Yak step outside, a wide, triumphant smile on his lips. The princess forced her breath out and turned to Yue. "There's our escort."

Sokka slid from the animal's back and pulled the buffalo-yak closer. Katara took the reins and held the beast as Sokka offered his hand to Yue. She accepted it and he hoisted her onto the wide saddle. Katara thought she saw the white-haired princess blush.

"Dad said don't woo her," Katara murmured as she heaved herself into the saddle in front of Yue. "Unless you want a marriage proposal."

Her brother raised his brows. "It might not be a bad idea," he said quietly, for her ears alone, "it'll be good for politics." He patted the buffalo-yak's flank. "Imagine that."

Katara tried to imagine Yue as a sister-in-law, though she found it nearly impossible to do so. She imagined that one day her brother would have a wife that was tough, perhaps not royalty, but hopefully a waterbender. Someone who could hold her own and hated smelly socks as much as Katara did. "Marriage isn't for politics."

"Yes, yes," her brother grinned, "it's for those things called babies." Sokka said and walked back to his own beast. His companions mounted the arctic camels. The polar dogs gathered together and Sokka looked at his sister, "Ready?"

Katara glanced at Yue, sitting stiffly behind her. "Ready," she said. She urged the buffalo-yak forward and moved to the exit of IcePoint. Sokka flanked them as they stepped onto the ice road leading into the village. There were different clans and tribes scattered about the south pole, though they all answered to Icepoint, Katara had visited a few with her father as a child and she had seen that some people were less fortunate.

At some point in her childhood, Katara had decided she would never allow someone to suffer if she could help it.

The polar dogs ran ahead. Amarok in the front, large and deep gray where the pups were smaller and lighter. Katara watched them disappear from sight and then run back, as if waiting for their masters to catch up.

A wagon pulled by snow oxen passed them. It was coming from the village they were headed to, weighed down with items to barter and trade. "Ice wine," Katara explained to Yue, "and raw furs."

Yue watched.

"You're used to canals up north, right?" Sokka asked and Katara tried to imagine what the North would look like, taking into consideration what Yue had already told her. She pictured it as being very pristine and glittering, beautiful in a more traditional sense.

"Yes," Yue answered, "there were canals for longer travel and sidewalks to go from building to building. The canals were monitored by waterbenders." She smiled softly and Katara heard her let out a tiny sigh. "It was convenient."

The north had spoiled their people, making them lax. The south had made no such offer, to work was to live and to survive was to obey the ice. It was unspoken truth, an ancestral law. The south did not forgive. Katara wondered if the north had any dangers at all.

They crested a small snow-hill and at its base, there was the small village beyond IcePoint. The buffalo-yak trotted along the road and pulled to a halt at the first ice lodge, a longhouse carved from the ice by a waterbender.

An aging man stepped out of the ice lodge to greet them. He dipped into a respectful bow as the chief's children slid down from their animals. Katara put her forearm across her chest in the traditional salute and grinned. The old man, Yupatik, smiled. "You have brought the Northern princess," he said, "the Winter Princess."

Yue looked surprised.

Yupatik smiled again, softly. "I was a Northerner once, I have heard stories of you from my children's letters," he tucked his thin hands into his pockets. "Touched by a spirit, what a gifted child. But now that you are hear, Winter Princess, you must work." He pointed to the ice lodge, "the walls can use some touching up," he said to Katara, "a child had a tantrum and everybody knows how you benders can be."

There were times that her emotions fueled her waterbending, even unintentionally. Katara had once remembered a time when Sokka and his friends had teased her and she had shattered the ice vase in their room. She figured she would understand the child if she met him.

She fixed her coat and walked around the longhouse. Sokka followed her, trailed by the polar dogs. The longhouse was the largest building in the village, used as both a hospital and a gathering place. Katara saw that the south-facing wall had been bent almost out of shape, some blocks of ice stretched and melded together.

Sokka tilted his head to the side and held out his hands, "You know...I can see a work of art here. Very nice. I can kinda see a otter-pengiun falling off of an iceberg," he turned to her, "can you see it?"

Katara set her stance and raised her hands, focusing on the frozen water. She made a wide sweeping motion and the ice bent to her command, grinding together. It shifted to a liquid state and she brought her hands up, palms pushed outward. The water followed, once again squares of ice and she clenched her fists.

The ice blocks attached themselves to the wall once more and Katara relaxed.

"You know, I wonder what the first waterbenders might have thought. They must've thought they were playing with magic water," Sokka said and ran his gloved hand along the side of the ice lodge. "This is some sturdy work you did here," he said. Of the two of them, Sokka was the architect and the mathematician. Katara just did the things that he couldn't. "The blizzards will blow right over it."

Sokka surveyed the other buildings of the village. "They need a wall," he said, "made from ice to keep intruders out." Katara scoffed. There was no way intruders would attack such a tiny village when the capital was just a short trek away. Sokka turned his head to her and Katara saw that he was frowning.

As she opened her mouth to ask, she heard a shriek of laughter. Village children had swarmed Yue and the polar dogs, tugging at her legs. She looked both alarmed and overjoyed, trying to answer the chatter of six different children.

The white-haired girl struggled over to join them, dragging the persistent children along. "They've made me queen of the village," she said and giggled. In her hands, Katara saw a small doll made from tattered cloth.

Sokka nearly doubled over in a bow. "Long live Yue, Queen of the Village." He smiled and one of the male children threw his arms around him. "And her loyal subjects."

Katara watched as the children detached themselves and started chasing after the polar dogs. She turned to Yue and saw her studying the cloth doll, running her fingers along the button eyes. "They're orphans," she explained quietly, "we help the village because they take in orphans."

Yue seemed taken aback. "I...I didn't know," she said.

"That's why they need a wall," Sokka said, "if something happens, a bunch of kids can't help defend a village. The oldest kid isn't even eleven yet." He looked up at the sky, as if he was expecting something to fall from it.

Katara nodded and looked at Yue. "I help out the village because I will never deny helping someone," she said, "I won't ever leave someone who needs me."

And that, Katara thought, was an undeniable truth.

* * *

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	5. Prince Zuko

_Zuko_

Above the high, darkly painted ceiling, there was the patter of rain falling against the roof. It was a constant, dull, sound, the type of sound that would lull one to sleep. And as odd as it would seem and as odd as it would sound, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation loved the rain.

Or rather, he loved what came after the rain. The renewal and freshness of everything, as if the rain as washed everything away and exposed a new layer underneath. Everything was suddenly alive and bright.

But his father told him that fire was the only way the world could be renewed, that a new world could be born from the ashes. Destruction and rebirth. The natural order of the world.

There was a sharp pinch on his left side, digging through his clothes and he knew there would possibly be a red mark later. He raised his head and glared at his sister. She met his gaze with her own cold, golden, stare but made no move to speak.

They sat on the second tier of a smooth black dais, their shadows cast by the wall of bright golden flames at their backs. Before them was the audience chamber of the Fire Nation palace, the largest chamber ever built in the palace though Zuko found it to be the most plain, except for the gold paintings of the Fire Nation's glory and the spirit-god Agni. When Zuko had been a child, his father had carried him and his sister across the whole room, explaining every scene and image in detail.

An older man knelt before the dais, a scroll balancing on his hands. He was a messenger, Zuko could tell by the design of his clothing and the slight tilt of his head even though he bowed.

"Rise," a voice said from the top tier of the dais. Zuko risked a chance to look over his shoulder at his father. Even sitting, Ozai the Phoenix King and Lord of the Fire Nation was an imposing man. People had told Zuko that he had his father's face but his mother's eyes, and he figured that his presence wasn't nearly as commanding as his father's.

The man was a royal courier, given the task of handling the important messages and packages that went through the capital city and the palatial caldera. Zuko thought that such a job must be very interesting.

"My lord," the courier said, "I've come to deliver this message." He held up the scroll and Zuko saw that it had been bound by a pale blue ribbon. "The messenger hawk flew in this morning."

Zuko extended his hand and the messenger passed the scroll to him. Zuko held it in his hand for a brief moment before handing the message to his father, who accepted it wordlessly.

The courier left quietly and the audience chamber was silent. Zuko looked at Azula and he could see the same desperate curiosity in her eyes that he knew was in his as well. Azula was better at hiding her emotions, though, a feat she had picked up from their mother, the queen.

At the same time, they turned and Zuko saw the scroll fall from their father's hand into his lap. His father's face seemed to be somewhere between amused and angry, and Zuko saw that his broad shoulders were tense. "It seems as though the Southern Water Tribe thinks they are above my rule," he said, "the chief of the south pole sent a refusal. He will not allow Fire Nation men on his snow."

Zuko figured that this "chief" was stupid. One just didn't refuse the Fire Nation, one didn't deny Ozai. Especially when the Fire Nation was the greatest nation on earth.

Beside him, Azula snorted.

Ozai relaxed his shoulders. "The Southerners forget that it was our ancestors who forged this world for the pleasure of the spirits and the gods. They are simply living in it. The Universe," he said, "has always been on our side. The Southern Water Tribe cannot refuse."

Zuko had always admired his father's faith in the ways of the Universe. Some things were unquestionable truths, such as the glory of the Fire Nation.

"Burn it to the ground," Azula said quietly and when Ozai looked at her, she lifted her chin and smirked. Azula was bold. "Burn that block of ice to the ground. Then they'll see what power we have. We are the rulers of the greatest empire this world has ever seen." Zuko wondered if he should add his own words, but he chose to remain silent.

Ozai let out a low, dark chuckle. He clutched the scroll and Zuko watched as it went up in flame. "I think they'll understand very clearly in a short while," he said. He let the ashes fall from his hands and onto the dais. He raised his eyebrow in a way that Zuko had long since learned that meant he was about to ask a question. "What do you know of your uncle? And of your grandfather?"

Azula and Zuko exchanged looks. "Iroh was treacherous, he wanted to weaken the power of the Fire Nation. And you overthrew him by the will of the spirits and the gods. And our grandfather had gone mad," Zuko answered and searched his father's face. Zuko had never met his grandfather but he had heard that he had once been a great ruler until he went mad with age. Ozai had merely been the second son, the spare Dragon. "You became the phoenix."

Zuko had heard the story enough times as a child. His father had rebelled against his older brother after their father's death, gathering supporters and then killing Iroh, his brother, and the three year old Crown Prince. Ozai had shed the dragon symbol and adopted the phoenix sigil, and had reigned for twenty years.

Their father nodded and looked at them both. Ozai had never said it but Zuko wondered if he was proud of them. Azula was a firebending prodigy, a master at eleven years old, while Zuko had an extensive knowledge of history. He was not as skilled as Azula, though he had mastered firebending when he was fourteen years old. Their mother, on the other hand, had always praised them, especially as children. That's where his parents differed.

"Yes," he said, "and the Universe has seen fit that both of you carry on the legacy." Zuko recognized that as a compliment, something his father rarely, if ever, gave. He flicked his wrist, dismissing them.

Azula led the way out of the audience chamber, over the red and black tile. The heavy doors closed behind them, leaving their father in solitude saved for the three palace guards posted outside of the chamber. Azula looked back at Zuko as they walked, "I feel sorry for the chief of the ice," she said, "the wrath of the Fire Nation is a terrible thing." The wrath of the Fire Nation and the wrath of Ozai were one and the same. "It'll be a sad day for the south."

Zuko shrugged. He knew Azula had no true sympathy for anyone. They entered the main corridor of the inner sanctum, a great hall that had been decorated with paintings of past Fire Lords and dragons. "You don't deny the Fire Nation," he said and Azula nodded. It was known.

"Or Mother," Azula said and Zuko heard her curse under her breath. She stopped suddenly and Zuko saw a group of women coming from the opposite direction. Their mother and her entourage, headed to the indoor garden for their routine of tea and gossip. The rain had banished them from their usual location outside. Zuko saw Azula stiffen. Their mother had always tried to make a proper lady out of Azula, though his sister had rebelled against her efforts.

It wasn't hard to spot their mother out of the group. The Lady Ursa was a woman of average height, but had a commanding presence. She was beautiful in the traditional way of the Fire Nation, with pale skin and ink black hair, yet she seemed to wear her features better than most. She was dressed in a deep red gown, cut from the finest cloth. Its long, bell-like sleeves hiding her delicate hands as she walked. Her black hair was pinned up in an elegant top knot, held in place by a pin in the shape of a phoenix.

As the group of women approached, Zuko stepped aside and dipped his head in courtesy. Instead, his mother stopped. "Ah," she said to the ladies behind her, "here are my children. Prince Zuko and Princess Azula." She turned her amber gaze onto her daughter, "I thought you would be joining us, Azula."

"I had other obligations," she said sharply and Zuko found himself suppressing a chuckle. Azula hated noblewomen. She had called them dimwitted snakes, even the girls her age. Zuko often found himself amused. His sister seemed just as disgusted as Zuko by the courtier antics and their constant desire to climb up the ladder of nobility.

Zuko had once heard a story about a noblewoman named Llia, who had helped orchestrate the rebellion against Father's brother twenty years ago. She'd done it all by the will of her husband, though Zuko had never seen the woman nor her husband.

Azula had argued that Father had killed the woman and her husband, and all the others who helped him overthrow his elder brother. If they had so readily helped to end one man's reign, what would stop them from doing it again? Protection, she had said, and Zuko figured that made sense. She had laughed at him and said that he wouldn't last five minutes as Lord of the Fire Nation without her. Zuko had called her a liar.

In the group of younger women, Zuko noticed a couple. One was a taller girl with her black hair pulled into two ox horns with a sharp bang covering her eyes. She was very thin, her burgundy clothes hanging from her slender frame. The other was a girl with brown hair instead of the stereotypical black, and eyes that were round and gray. She caught his gaze and smiled, waving.

Ursa studied her children for a moment and Zuko figured that she would reprimand them later. They must have allies, she would argue, beneficial relationships and avoiding people would not help that. After a pause, she stepped around them and her guests followed.

As Zuko and Azula slipped away, the two girls joined them. They fell into step with the royal siblings. "Oh good," the black haired girl said, though her voice was dry and monotonous, "I thought I was going to spend the whole day with them. They're so boring."

The lighter haired girl grabbed the collar of her loose-fitting dress and suddenly pulled it over her head, revealing another outfit underneath. She grinned, tossing the dress over her shoulder. She wore a pale pink shirt tucked into darker pants, held in place by a thick belt. "Those clothes are so stuffy! I thought I was going to suffocate in there!"

"Ty Lee actually stayed in one place for more than five minutes and I found that astonishing," the black haired girl, Mai, said. "And we had to sit through tea time and gossip, who would've imagined so much scandal." She rolled her eyes.

Zuko knew that his mother had very few true friends in the court, and she had encouraged her children to do the same. Ty Lee and Mai were Azula's schoolmates and had somehow managed to stay on her good side. They weren't "dimwitted snakes" she had said. Zuko had often wondered if they were friends with his sister because they were afraid or because their families had demanded it.

Or perhaps they truly liked Azula, but he doubted it. Azula's company was notoriously hard to enjoy.

"Oh, Mai, you didn't tell them about the _rumor_," Ty Lee and her voice softened. Zuko looked at the gray-eyed girl. She flexed her fingers, her movements always seemed to be restless to Zuko, as if she was always yearning to be somewhere else. "We heard that someone found a body. Some nobleman who appeared to have choked."

"Apparently some nobleman named Takuma. His eldest son found him at his dining table, bent over and blue," Mai shrugged, as if disinterested. "He had some official position."

Zuko raised his brows. He had known of Takuma, a man formerly on the national council. He had seen him with his father as an advusor. The man had been old, old enough to remember both the treacherous Prince Iroh and Zuko's grandfather. He had remained neutral during the conflict between the brothers, something that must've inspired Ozai to keep him around. Zuko wondered if his father knew of the man's death yet.

"Unfortunate," Azula deadpanned. "An old man choked on his food, what an unusual occurence." Despite her words, Zuko knew his sister well enough to know that her interest had peaked.

"It's not really what you'd expect to hear from noblewomen during tea time," Zuko offered and his sister turned her gaze onto him. He wondered if he said something that had amused her.

Azula smirked and looked at Ty Lee and Mai. "One thing you have yet to understand, Zuzu, is that noblewomen are simply vicious creatures." She leaned closer to him, "Don't forget that one of the greatest, most ruthless Fire Lords was a woman."

She meant the Lord of the Archipelago, the Fire Lord Ichiko, who had conquered the remaining independent people of the Fire Nation archipelago and done away with every family member that tried to hinder her. Legends had proclaimed that she even tamed a dragon.

Azula smiled. "I say we spar in the rain, Zuzu," she said and opened her palms. Blue flames erupted from them, warming the air around them. Azula was the prodigy, the Blue Phoenix, one of the very few in written history to produce blue flames. The previous had been Ichiko. "Seems fair, hmm?"

Zuko couldn't help but grin.

They walked down the hall and his sister leaned in. "Old men may choke, but not Takuma," she whispered, "he wouldn't just keel over and choke."

Zuko considered that for a moment. "So you're saying he was murdered?"

Azula pinched him and her fingers were hot. "Quieter. And ah you think in such extremes, Zuko. I suppose someone just hurried along the inevitable. We all have enemies, Zuko." She looked at her companions and studied them, "and we all have allies. I think Takuma forgot."

The Prince of the Fire Nation paused. Takuma had been a nobleman, he was bound to have enemies. "I see," he said. Zuko was certain he had enemies as well. After a brief moment of silence, he smirked and raced his sister the rest of the way to the garden, suddenly anticipating the feel of fire in his hands and the rain on his skin.


	6. Paint

**You might can call this filler you might can call this character development? **

* * *

_Hakoda_

"You seem worried," his mother said as she sat a cup of a hot beverage before him. She sat down before him and Hakoda looked up to see Kanna's blue eyes boring into him. "It's about the Fire Nation?"

Hakoda frowned. "I have no worries," he said and his mother looked skeptical. "I've told you already, I've given Ozai my answer. I do not fear a bird. He will not have the South." He took a sip of the beverage. It had been imported from a southern Earth Kingdom, a drink that was sold and sweetened to one's desire. It had many names, Hakoda had learned, but the Southern Water Tribe called it "coffee". He had found that it often kept him awake.

Kanna watched him. As a youth, her gaze had made Hakoda squirm. As he aged, he had often been told that he had inherited his mother's hard stare. "Sokka's ritual hunts will begin soon," he said, "it came upon me so quickly."

His mother softened at the thought of her grandson. It was southern tradition for a young man to lead three hunts as a rite of manhood, each one increasingly challenging. Hakoda remembered his three hunts, though the elders had given him riddles instead of actual first, he recalled, had been a fairly simple seal hunt. The second had been a trek to the mountain to retrieve an arctic goat and the third had been to find the most beautiful thing in the south.

He had found Kya, perched on a rock with her loveliest clothes and a club in her hand. She had smiled that odd, sideways smile that Hakoda had grown to love -and to miss- and asked if she was what he was looking for.

Hakoda had considered his words for a moment, had seen the girl's smirk and had answered with "perhaps".

"He's becoming an adult, as we all must," Kanna said. "He'll be a great chief when his time comes. He's like you, but perhaps a bit more logical," she chuckled, "you had your head in the clouds as a boy. You and Kya both. Katara takes after you two."

The chief nodded. He had envisioned his children would both be leaders in their own right. Sokka was to be the chieftain, the protector and ruler of the south. "I haven't began mixing the paint for Sokka's ritual," Hakoda said, "Perhaps you can help?"

His mother lifted her shoulders. "It's been years since I've mixed paint," she said and smiled, "but I can do it one more time I suppose." Her eyes watched him for a long moment and Hakoda saw her lips turn downward in a frown. "This is a changing world, Hakoda."

"The world is always changing, woman," Hakoda said and his mother inhaled deeply, "That's why we are people of the ice and of the water, we adapt." He took another sip of the beverage, "we must move with the ebb and flow. Those who do not will drown."

Kanna's gaze became distant. "I remember a time when there was talk of a spirit-god on earth," she said, "called the Avatar who could master all elements and could unite all kingdoms and empires. I suppose that a spirit-god had no desire to be in this world for men and crowns and kingdoms."

"Perhaps not, I don't think they would," Hakoda answered, "the spirits and the gods must find us mortals very amusing. Men will slaughter their brothers for a crown, men will live in palaces of ice, men will try to become gods," he waved his hand and pushed himself away from the small table and stood.

Kanna eyed the bone dagger on his belt as she stood. "You have had that knife for a long time," she said, "since you were a young boy."

"Yes," Hakoda said and he was reminded of a room that was freezing cold and cold hands squeezing his and looking down into Kya's face as her eyes welled up with tears. "The children will be free," she had said, "Do not tame them," she had said and Hakoda had promised. She had taken the bone dagger from his hands and looked at it and begged to have an identical one to die with.

Kya had been pushed out to sea with her finest cloak and an identical bone dagger in her hands, and Hakoda had wept before returning home to make good on his promise.

They had given Kya a warrior's funeral. The elders had dressed her in an arctic leopard cloak and on her arms they had written symbols of strength and motherhood. Hakoda still remembered the sad, lilting hymn the people had sung as she was pushed out to sea. It echoed in his head sometimes when he looked at Sokka and Katara and saw their mother in them.

As he exited the chamber, he waved his hand and caught the attention of a passing servant. The man saluted him and Hakoda returned the gesture. "Do you know the materials needed for ritual paint?" He asked and the man nodded. Hakoda remembered that the servant, Parqik, had three grown sons. "I need them to be brought to me quickly."

"Aye," Parqik said and set off down the hall. From the opposite direction Hakoda heard sounds of running and the yipping of polar dogs from another hall, sounds that could only come from his children.

"They're almost grown and still can be heard throughout IcePoint," Kanna said as she came to his side. "They're going to corrupt the northern girl before the year is over, take my word on it."

Hakoda shook his head. "I doubt it. That girl's been raised to be obedient and quiet since she was a baby, she won't change so easily. Too much of a lady." He looked down at his mother, "You're the rare exception for northern women."

Kanna smirked. "I was," she said as Parqik returned with an assistant, carrying several jars and empty bowls. She stepped aside as Hakoda cleared the table for the servants to set the materials down. She picked up a jar and studied its contents. "Base," she said. "And coloring."

The chief sat and set everything before him. He took the coloring and poured a bit of the red into a bowl. "The ancestors used to use blood and crushed plants," he said, reciting what his own father had told him and what he had told Sokka. "I suppose some became squeamish." That practice had died many years ago. "It died in the north first."

His mother laughed, "The Northern Water Tribe is more concerned about things that are pretty rather than practical," she said, as though she had not once been a northerner. "Dried blood isn't pleasing to the eye." She pulled a face. She hadn't lived the north since she was seventeen, over fifty years ago.

"Though it's very intimidating," the chief said. He poured the red coloring into the base and stirred them together, watching as the red color began to lighten and take hold. "Red for the blood of the hunt, white for the ice on which we live, and black for the soot and smoke of the fire,"

Kanna mixed the black paint. "Blue for the ocean and for the sky," she continued, "and violet to appeal to the gods."

The Water Tribe worshipped many gods and spirits, including the Moon and Ocean Spirits Tui and La. They prayed to the nameless, formless gods of the hunt and of the ice and begged the angry spirits to show mercy. The Tribes did not just believe, they feared.

"I had a dream," Kanna said and Hakoda smiled inwardly, knowing that she had not sought him out for no reason. "I dreamed of a comet and of the long night, and of ice that lay next to a flame and did not melt," she told him, "it was peculiar."

Hakoda raised his brows. "I can imagine so. But I am no interpreter of dreams, I cannot decipher and decide meanings. You're an elder, Kanna, that's your job." He chuckled.

His mother didn't seem amused. "I haven't told the other elders of this," she admitted, "those old bag of bones think everything is an omen. Some things are merely the way they are," she said, "it is so."

"It is so," Hakoda repeated. The phrase was one of the tribe's elders, passed down from the ancestral law. If it was willed, then it would be so. He dipped his fingers into the red paint and made a mark on his mother's wrist. "Wise woman," he said and smiled.

Kanna looked at the symbol. She took a sample of the black paint and drew an animal in Hakoda's palm. "The Polar Bear Dog," she said and Hakoda wondered how they must look, a grown man and his mother playing with paints. "The rulers of the south. It is so."

Hakoda looked down at his palm. The black Polar Bear Dog danced across it, leaping towards the flesh of his thumb and tail curving up towards his fingers. He closed his fist. He remembered that the South had stood for ten thousand years before him and would continue to stand ten thousand years after him, and that the Polar Bear Dogs would continue to roam without restraint or fear, but they were the apex predators of the south pole.

And Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe remembered that he had nothing to worry about.


	7. The Ice Wall

_Hahn_

It would only be a few years, they said. Defending the Ice Wall was the greatest honor, they said. To keep the vile things in the Land of the Ice That Never Melts away from the tribe was a duty to take great pride in.

The people who said that, Hahn decided, were liars.

The land outside of the Northern Water Tribe capital was cold, colder than Hahn had expected. He pulled his cloak closer to him, tucking his arms under his armpits and exhaling, watching as his breath drifted away in visible white clouds.

Hahn balanced on the edge of the wagon and watched as the great capital of the Northern Water Tribe grew smaller. The ice tiers began to shrink and become dark dots against the unending white snow. Hahn felt a bit homesick already, though it had only been an hour since they departed for the Ice Wall.

"I heard it snows all day," a boy said beside him. Hahn hadn't taken the time to learn his name, but he knew that the boy was going to serve permanently on the Wall. Hahn thought he was stupid, who would want to spend their whole life away from people? "And even waterbenders can die frozen in their beds."

Hahn made a face. His father had convinced- no, commanded- him to serve on the Ice Wall. His older brothers were all esteemed warriors and had married women of good standing. Hahn didn't expect much, being the third son, but he remembered that once his mother had told him he would marry a princess. She had told him that his princess wife would see him as a great hero when he returned.

His mother was a liar.

The wagon went over a small bump and Hahn jolted, nearly smashing into the boy beside him. "Y'not scared of bein' frozen?" The boy asked, "and getting lost in the snow?"

Hahn rolled his eyes. "I'm competent enough to know how to find my way back," he answered. "I can do my duty and get back home." He suddenly imagined that fighting foul-things and barbarians would get more respect than simply guarding ships. This might work out, he thought.

The boy studied him and Hahn returned his stare. He appeared to be about fifteen, younger than Hahn, and of lower economic standing. His eyes were brown, a trait that some Tribe people had depending on what clan their ancestors came from. The boy grinned, "I bet the ladies are gonna miss ya."

Despite himself, Hahn smirked. He was handsome, he always had been and people knew it. "I suppose," he said, "they'll have to learn to live without me." He was sure his mother would also have to get used to him being gone, he may have been the youngest but he was his mother's favorite and his father's greatest pupil. Hasook and Nilu, his brothers, had been prodigies. Hahn had taken his talent and excelled.

A man riding a buffalo-yak came up the side of the wagon. He was a large, scarred man with aged eyes and half of his left ear was missing. "Save ya breath, boys," he said, "the cold at the wall will make you breathless."

Hahn blinked. He wondered what had caused the man's injury. Everyone knew there were foul-things beyond the Wall, angry abominations and barbarians. Hahn had heard tales of times before the Wall was built, when things from the Land of the Ice That Never Melts would plague the city and only the bravest warriors and a mystical being known as the Avatar could keep them away.

Hahn wasn't sure if the Avatar was even real anymore, but if he was, he wasn't doing his job very well.

"I once knew a man who kept watch on the Wall, and a spirit flew down and nearly stole his soul," the man went on, "the only reason he lived was because someone gave him a sip of water from the Spirit Oasis."

Hahn knew of the Spirit Oasis. It lay on the edge of the city, a place of warmness and a small pool that held the physical forms of the Moon and Ocean spirits Tui and La, two Koi fish. Hahn knew that the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe had been granted life by the Moon spirit as a baby. Hahn figured that there were a lot of perks to that.

"Why did the spirit try to steal his soul?" The boy beside Hahn asked. "And why was there no one to help him?"

The man seemed agitated. "Because," he drawled, "That's what some spirits do. They steal souls. And the man was alone because he was on sentry duty at night. Night is a dangerous time. Especially a full moon."

Hahn looked back, only to see that even the tallest tower in the capital had disappeared from view, leaving only an empty expanse of white snow and pale blue ice. It felt odd, he thought, to be so far from the city, his home, yet still be in the north. It felt alien to be plodding along an empty road of ice and crushed snow.

"There ain't no girls at the Wall," someone drawled at the front of the wagon, "but the spirits just as pretty, there ain't no girls at the Wall, they got left back in the city." He laughed and some others joined him, repeating the words and making a song out of them.

"Here we are, going to keep the capital safe while the chief is up in his ice palace, feasting. And the prince probably has his nose in a book." The man on the buffalo-yak pulled a face.

Kuruk, the chief's son and heir, was a chubby six year old boy. Hahn had only seen him once, when Hasook had been recognized as an established warrior. He had hid between his father, the chief, and his mother, holding his elder sister's hand. Princess Yue was beautiful, Hahn remembered that, and he remembered that he wouldn't mind courting her. Perhaps she'd been his princess.

There was an excited shout and Hahn craned his neck to see the men on the supply wagon ahead of theirs shouting and pumping their fists on the air. Beyond that, he could see a massive wall of ice. It was taller than the highest tier in the capital and though Hahn could not see it all, he figured it must've gone on for miles.

"The only thing keeping the foul-things out," the man on the buffalo-yak said quietly, "the great wall of ice. Between two mountains, a hundred and fifty feet high, and about as thick as five men standing shoulder to shoulder. Home."

As the wagons drew closer, Hahn saw stations set up along the wall and men in pairs of two scaling it with the help of some type of rig. They stood on a thin platform, one holding it steady while the other used waterbending.

"That's how we make repairs," the man said and spurred his buffalo-yak, pulling away from the wagons and disappearing from view.

The wagons followed the well- traveled path along the wall and Hahn smelled smoke and animals. He heard the familiar sound of northern made steel and the crunch of a thousand feet on snow.

The wagon pulled to a halt.

An average looking man leaped down from the front seat as a group of men approached. They wore dark blue cloaks and cowls, noses tinged red from the cold. "Get out!" The average looking man shouted and the boys clammered from the wagon, shoving each other to stand before the men. "Get out and stand up!"

Hahn took his time.

One of the men detached himself from the group and walked along the line of boys. "You brought a sorry lot," he said and wrinkled his red nose.

"Sorry?!" Hahn couldn't help but argue, "I'm a great warrior."

The man stopped and looked back at Hahn. "Oh are ya now?" He smiled. "Are you a first son?"

Hahn rolled his eyes. "No."

"Second?"

"No."

The man laughed loudly. "Oh! So this _great warrior_ is a third son! A merchant's son probably. Let me tell you, boy, if you were so great of a warrior, you would be guarding the chief." He clapped a hand heavily on Hahn's shoulder, expecting him to flinch "I like this one," he said, "he won't make it a month on the wall."

Hahn narrowed his eyes and the man crooked his finger, beckoning him forward. Hahn followed and he heard the wagon driver snicker. Hahn tried to mask the chill that cut through his clothes with a shrug. The man led him away from the others.

They trudged across the snow and onto an empty platform. The man stepped on it first and as Hahn stepped up, the mechanism began to rise. The man operated the pulley, grunting with the effort. Hahn saw the people on the ground getting smaller as they went up the side of the wall. He noticed the minute intricacies in the ice, tiny designs that could only be seen up close.

"Do you know who I am, boy?" The man asked as he pulled. In one swift movement, he pulled back his hood. He wasn't an old man, but Hahn saw streaks of gray in his dark hair. He did not seem familiar.

When Hahn told him so, the man smiled darkly. "I had figured as much," he continued to pull, "I'm the chief's nephew."

Hahn's eyes widened.

"It's true," the man nodded, "the lone son of his eldest sister. You won't hear him claim we're related, though. I doubt he knows I'm alive." He gave the rope a heavy tug, "We're the same age, his sister was a woman grown by the time he was born."

"Like his own children," Hahn said, "the princess and the prince are ten years apart." He looked down, they were perhaps a quarter of the way up the wall.

"My mother and Arnook were nineteen years apart," the man replied and let go of the rope. The platform stayed suspended in place and then the man raised his hands, making a pushing motion. A waterbender. There was a grinding noise and the ice beneath the platform rippled. The platform began to move upward once more, without without the effort of the man's pulling. "What's your name, boy?"

"Hahn," he replied. The platform was rising faster now. "Why did you choose me?"

The man smiled softly to himself.

The platform clinked and stopped and Hahn felt a cold wind cut through him. They were at the top of the wall, one hundred and fifty feet above the ground and Hahn could see the open land on either side of the wall. On one side there were things that were familiar, there was his home. On the other was the unknown, the Land of the Ice That Never Melts and foul-things and spirits and barbarians.

The man stepped onto the ice at the top of the wall, his steps sure and measured. Hahn followed, breathing in the frigid air of the north.

"It's beautiful," the man said beside him. "Lovely and deadly." He watched Hahn and Hahn watched him. "As unforgiving as a woman scorned. They say the north was created by an angry female spirit."

Without warning, the man in the dark blue cloak grabbed Hahn by the throat. As the younger man gasped for breath, he pushed him backwards, bending over the edge of the wall. Hahn gripped the man's arms and the chief's nephew smiled. "Not so great of a warrior up here on your own, are ya?" He hissed and pushed down. "You're just a pitiful little boy, aren't ya?"

Hahn cried out as the man pulled him back to safety, wheezing as he tried to regain his breath. "What was that for?!"

The man chuckled. "I can see you're a cocky one," he said, "you take pride in what you can do. But listen to me, boy, this wall is unforgiving. We will not coddle you, we will not stroke your ego. You either work for you keep, or you die. Understood?"

Hahn rubbed his throat. "You threatened to kill me just for that?"

The man seemed amused. "I did," he said, "and I would do it again. How will you know what you're going to face, if you've never seen death in the eye?"

"The other new boys haven't," Hahn said and he felt a heavy drop in his stomach.

Again, the man chuckled. "Get back on the platform," he ordered, "And those other boys, little hero, are criminals."

* * *

You know what you should do? Read and review!


	8. Peculiar Vistors

_Sokka_

Sokka closed his eyes as his father marked the red paint on his forehead, just above his eyes. It was meant to represent the blood of the hunt. Their ancestors had once used real animal blood but Sokka was glad that practice had died out.

Today would begin his final ritual of manhood, a series of three hunts as a rite of passage. It would prove he could provide for his family and show his strength. He had spent the last four days listening to the older warriors and the elders, asking for their wisdom. They had suggested he pray to his ancestral spirits.

He had prayed and they had given him no answer and Sokka figured that he must've been doing it wrong.

"There'll be no question of your right to be chief after this," Hakoda said and smiled. "Your mother would be very proud." He made the mark of prosperity over Sokka's jaw. "You're a man grown now."

Sokka remembered his mother pelting him with snowballs and pulling his hair into a warrior's wolf tail. The rest of his memories of her had been drawn up by the stories he had been told. He imagined she would've been a meat lover like him.

Hakoda clapped his shoulders and stood. Sokka followed suit. He followed his father as he led him through the halls of IcePoint. "Remember all I have taught you. You're a clever boy, Sokka."

"I know," he said and adjusted his belt. He had a bone dagger on one side and his boomerang on the other. "I won't let you down, Dad."

His father nodded stiffly. He wouldn't be accompanying the younger warriors this time and Sokka knew his father well enough to recognize his worry. Not about the hunt, but the Fire Nation.

Sokka decided that if any psychotic firebenders ever tried to land a foot on the south pole, he'd see to it personally that they end up in the sea. No doubt about it, he thought.

Katara and Yue were waiting for them at the end of the main hall. His little sister seemed caught between excitement and jealousy. She wasn't allowed on large hunts, her father had forbidden it even though she had protested. When they were younger, Sokka had told her that girls weren't the same as boys and she had kicked him.

It was only true.

"Good luck," Yue said and smiled. She'd warmed up a bit to IcePoint in the weeks that'd she been a guest. There were two different types of princesses in the world, Sokka thought. There were the proper ones, like Yue, and then there were the ones like his sister.

"Thanks," Sokka said and grinned. His sister and his family's guest had joined him in praying to the ancestors the night before, in hopes that the spirits would bring good luck. Sokka figured that the success of the hunt was by chance and by skill. "I'll be a real man soon, Katara, that means you'd have to listen to what I say."

His sister rolled her eyes and Sokka smiled before crossing the threshold of the citadel's main entrance. His father followed and Sokka saw his friends and one of the dog handlers, holding the hunting dogs by their rope leashes. Beside the handler was the wooden sled used to drag large kills and extra supplies.

Sokka whistled and Amarok, his lead hunting dog, tore himself from the handler's grip. Sokka looked at his sister and then at his father and saluted him. His father dipped his head. Sokka picked up the rope attached to the wooden sled and turned to his fellow warriors. They were slightly older than him, but they were his closest companions other than his sister and family.

Today, Sokka thought, he would be the leader of the pack. And he thought that was pretty cool.

IcePoint lay between the sea, the tundra, and the rest of the Southern Water Tribe. Sokka thought it was genius, in a way. IcePoint was a fortress, not a palace, and if any foreign invaders tried to attack from the sea, they would first have to fight the south pole's greatest protectors.

A stablehand brought a buffalo-yak around to them and Sokka hitched the sled onto the animal's saddle. He took the reins and tugged gently.

Sokka felt his family's eyes on him as he led the way. His companions were silent as they followed. It was a solemn event, the first hunts always were. After the third, the south pole would celebrate and accept Sokka as the next chief. Then his name would be carved in the ice and the South would remember him. Sokka was mainly concerned about the feast.

"You'll be a man, Sokka, like the rest of us," Touqa said. He was short and thin, and had a lighter complexion than most tribe people. His mother, Sokka had heard, had been a woman from one of the Earth Kingdoms. Either she had died or refused to move South, Sokka wasn't sure. "You'll find a pretty wife, too."

Kunip, another of Sokka's friends, grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly. "The next chieftain is gonna need more than a pretty face," he laughed, "this man has a whole family of warriors, even girls. His own mother was one."

Kunip was the oldest of their group, nearly eight years Sokka's senior and had served as Sokka's instructor sometimes. He'd been old enough to remember Kya, Sokka's mother before her death. "She'd have to know how to wrestle wild beasts just to call herself a Polar Bear Dog."

Sokka shrugged and scratched the back of his head.

He remembered when his father first told him what it meant to be a Polar Bear Dog. He had been six and Katara only five, but their father had pulled them into his lap. He had explained to them that the Polar Bear Dog was the indomitable ruler of the ice, that they could never be tamed and that they roamed the south pole in packs. He had told them that their ancestors had chosen the animal to illustrate their strength. Sokka had found that obvious, no one would respect a chief with a snow squirrel as his symbol.

Somewhere in the world, Sokka thought, there was a family with a snow squirrel as a symbol and he weeped for their embarrassment.

They took a different path than usual, instead heading away from the road that would lead them to the orphan village. The snow was packed close to the ground, generally undisturbed. Sokka led the way across it. It would be a simple seal hunt where the ice was thin and the ocean was close.

A cold wind blew and stung Sokka's eyes and nose, spraying his face with loose flakes of snow. He pulled his hood up and held his head down, listening to the sound of the others behind him. Amarok pressed his warm fur against Sokka's leg and guided him to the steadier parts of ice.

"I heard up north there's a spirit portal," Kunip said and scoffed. "I don't see why any spirit would want to stick around with 'em." He laughed, "the white-haired princess, what's she like, Sokka?"

Sokka looked over his shoulder. "She's alright, I guess. Not like us. She's quiet. Y'know, typical northerner." Sokka didn't know many northerners, but he figured they would be like Yue. He often tried to make Yue laugh, to make her time away from home more enjoyable. He had discovered that Yue found his occasional clumsiness amusing.

Sokka caught the smell of salt water and felt the ice under his feet grow thin. He raised his hand for the others to halt. Amarok had his nose to the ice, trained to pinpoint the smell of prey animals. He trotted a few cautious steps and sniffed the ice once more. Sokka watched him, trailing the animal.

Amarok led him to a hole in the ice where the frigid water met the cold air. It was a seal's breathing hole. Amarok nudged Sokka and crouched as Sokka held up his spear.

Now, he thought, he would have to wait.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Amarok lay down and rested his massive head on his paws, looking up at Sokka. He whimpered, as if agitated, and Sokka looked apologetically at him.

"Maybe the seals are asleep," Kunip said to him and Sokka shot his companions a sharp glare. They broke into laughter. "Patience is a hunter's greatest weapon."

Sokka shifted his weight and readjusted his spear.

There was the sound of movement in the water and he tensed. Amarok rose and bared his teeth. Sokka peered closer at the dark water of the seal hole.

A pale snout and head pushed its way through the water and through the gap in the ice. Sokka saw large black eyes and a glistening black nose and silver whiskers. Amarok closed his jaws around the seal's neck and Sokka raised his spear, dispatching the animal quickly.

Kunip and Touqa rushed over to him, tugging the buffalo-yak with them. Sokka gave thanks to the nameless gods of the hunt as his companions helped him haul the seal onto the ice.

"He's a big'un," Touqa said and flipped the seal over with the toe of his boot. "I think this is a good sign for you," he smiled as he and Kunip heaved the seal onto the sled. "Back home?"

Sokka admired his catch and grabbed Amarok's head affectionately. "Back home," he repeated, and ruffled the polar dog's fur. He picked up the buffalo-yak's reigns and gave a great pull.

Sokka imagined his father's pride as he returned from the first of his ritual hunts. He would clap him on the back and Katara would hug him. Yue would smile and congratulate him in that quiet way of hers. It would be nice.

Off in the distance, he heard a long, low howl and he imagined it was a Polar Bear Dog hunting. Sokka had never actually seen a Polar Bear Dog, at least not alive and up close, but he knew they roamed the south. They could be captured, but not tamed, fought but never truly defeated. Sokka admired that.

From the direction from which they had come, Sokka heard the loud gongs from IcePoint. One gong for a celebration, two for a visitor, and three for an attack.

He stopped and listened.

One.

Two.

Sokka looked back at his companions and furrowed his brow. His father had not informed him that there would be anymore visitors to the south after Yue. "Did you guys hear that?"

Kunip nodded. Sokka quickened his stride, urging the buffalo-yak to go faster. Amarok and the other hunting animals nipped at its heels, as if sensing the sudden urgency.

Their trek back was slower with the heavy weight of the seal on the sled. Sokka tried to imagine who would come to the south so unexpectedly, perhaps a merchant hoping to strike up business.

The citadel's highest point came into view. Sokka could see nothing out of the ordinary. They passed through the ice overhangs and Sokka saw his father's greatest friend, Bato, heading towards them. Sokka halted as the man approached them.

"What's going on?" Sokka asked and Bato frowned. "I heard the gong."

Bato looked back over his shoulder. "There has been an unannounced visitor," he answered, "a Fire Nation envoy arrived this morning without notification."

There was a collective gasp. The Fire Nation was made up of psychotic pyromanic imperialists, at least that's what Sokka had heard, and the letter that his father had gotten had done nothing to dispute that.

"Where are they?" Sokka had decided his catch would wait. Bato led him and his friends across IcePoint to the central courtyard.

There stood his father and the girls, and his father's warriors. Before them was a group of men in black and red armor, their skin pale and eyes brown and gold. They seemed unarmed and stood without hostility.

Sokka strode to Hakoda's side. He caught the gaze of a man who seemed to be his father's age, with a sharp, mean gaze and full side burns. "Why are they here?"

Hakoda glared. "They come in peace," he growled, "They've come to help persuade us to allow them to worship in the south." He sounded disgusted.

One of the Fire Nation men bowed and reached behind him. He dragged forward a heavy black chest and set it before the chief of the south pole. Without speaking, he opened it. "From the Phoenix King."

Inside the chest were gold coins, filled to the brim. Sokka reached into the chest and picked up one, testing the weight of it and biting it. "It's real," he said. The Southerners had no true desire for gold, they worked through trade, but their international business partners often sent it anyway.

"The Phoenix King wouldn't send anything that wasn't of value," The man with the side burns said. "Take it as payment for your time."

Hakoda was not impressed. "I have given the Phoenix King my answer already," he said sharply. "I'm terribly sorry for the waste of your energy and time..."

"Zhao," the man with the side burns finished, "Commander Zhao of the Southern Fleet." He seemed to smirk and Sokka found something about him very agitating. Perhaps his facial hair. "We traveled for four weeks just to come to the south," he said, "surely you can show us hospitality."

Katara grabbed Sokka's sleeve. "He know he'll make Dad look bad if he refuses," she hissed. "Their ship just came up unexpectedly and now he wants us to show them _hospitality!_"

Hakoda's nostrils flared. "Bato," he said, "find these Fire Nation navy-men some rooms for the night, and let the cook know that he'll be serving a few more people tonight." He looked at the commander and jerked his head. "Follow me."

Two of his father's men picked up the chest and carried it inside. The others flanked the Fire Nation men. Sokka saw the commander's eyes travel first over to Yue before sliding over to Katara, an ugly, smug, smile crossing his lips.

Sokka felt his blood begin to boil. No one looked at his sister like that. No one looked at his sister, period.

Yue drifted closer to him and Sokka saw that her blue eyes were large and anxious. "What's going on?" She asked and Sokka wondered if she regretted coming to the south, he wondered if she was afraid.

"It'll be okay," Sokka said to her, "I'll protect you if something goes wrong." He flexed his muscles and Yue giggled softly. "I promise." Sokka was many things, but a liar was not one of them. Perhaps a stretcher of truths, but not a liar. "Let me tell you about this seal I caught..."

Sokka told her about the hunt and decided that no peculiar visitors would ruin the first day of his ritual hunt, and that no firebender would come to the south and try take anything, with gold or without.

* * *

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	9. Red

**This chapter is fairly ugly.**

* * *

_Yue_

Yue spent the night in Katara's room. She curled up next to the southern princess and Katara had told her stories, some of which Yue was sure had been made up or fabricated. She had listened until Katara had stopped talking and she had looked up to see that the younger princess had fallen asleep.

Yue wondered if this is what having a sister felt like.

When she awoke, it was to the quiet rap on the door. Katara was beside her, turned away from her but Yue could see she was still asleep. Yue nudged her gently and rose from the bed. She went to the door and saw one of the Southern chief's warriors, arms crossed before his chest and a disinterested look on his face, as if he had better things to do than wake up two princesses.

From her time in the south, Yue had learned that there wasn't terribly inappropriate to be seen in one's night clothes. Back home, it was expected to be washed and dressed before the morning meal had even been prepared. Sleeping in was unacceptable for a princess of the north.

"We'll be dressed in a minute, alright?" She said and closed the door, slipping over to Katara's wardrobe. Yue was taller and thinner than the southern girl, but she figured that Katara would not mind. She opened the wardrobe, studying the many dresses and leggings that Katara owned. They were varying shades of blue, some elaborately detailed and others simple. She pulled out a pair of under-leggings and a lavender colored shift. She had only seen Katara in blues and violets, nothing quite so pale. Yue held it up to her frame and imagined how she would look.

"Wear that!" Katara said and Yue jumped. The younger girl was behind her, studying the cloth. "It's not really mine," she admitted, "it belongs to Gran-Gran. She said our Pa-Pa gave it to her as a gift. I don't think she would mind if you wore it, though. It'd probably look better on you than it would on me."

Yue tried to picture the fall of the dress. It would look lovely, she thought. Katara took her hair into her hands, "You always wear that same ornament."

She meant the pale blue headpiece that Yue used to hold her hair in place. The comb had a carving of the Northern Water Tribe symbol, the moon on one side and the Koi fish on the other. Yue's mother has once told her that the comb had more value than some people would ever see in a lifetime. That had made Yue feel sick to her stomach before her mother had told her that the spirits had chosen them to be fortunate. "It has sentimental value," Yue replied.

Katara nodded in understanding, touching the necklace at her throat. It was her mother's necklace, given to her by her husband's mother who had come from the north pole. It had been a betrothal necklace, a northern tradition. Yue figured she would have her own, one day when her family chose a husband for her.

Yue dressed quickly and quietly, unlike Katara who seemed to always wrestle in and out of her clothes. Sokka had told her that as a child, after their mother died, Katara had insisted on doing everything on her own, even though she had been four years old.

The chief's wife seemed to be like a ghost, some kind of lingering spirit that danced just on the edge of everyone's mind, visible but out of reach. Yue couldn't imagine losing her mother, no matter how cold she could be at times.

When the last garment had been fitted, Yue nodded to Katara and the younger princess opened the door. The stoic warrior still stood there. "Are you ready?" He asked.

Katara stepped outside of her room. "Why are you escorting us?" She asked and Yue closed the door behind her. "Is it because of those Fire Nation sailors?"

"Your father's orders," the man said. He led them down the hall. Yue knew it was true, the chief had given them in escort because if the sailors. Yue thought that was very chivalrous of him, but she knew that it was just a father's drive to keep his daughter safe.

Yue's nurse, Yugoda, joined them on the way to the great dining hall. Yugoda had spent much of her time with her old friend, the chief's mother while Yue had adapted to the south on her own. She walked beside Yue and normally, the white-haired girl would've reached for her hand, but she found that the gesture gave her no comfort.

Katara's brother and father were already at the head table, facing the Fire Nation sailors. They wore brilliant shades of red, along with black. They sat straight-backed and tense, and Yue cast a nervous glance at her friend. Katara strode over to her father, chin help high, and sat beside him, glaring openly at their guests. Yue wouldn't have dared to do the same had she been at home.

"Good morning," Sokka said as they sat. He smiled in a way that did not quite reach his eyes.

Yue glanced across the table. Several of the Fire Nation sailors were staring, their eyes warming her skin as if their golden gazes carried heat. Her hair, she remembered, they had never seen a white-haired teenager. She was a freak to them. She wondered if most Fire Nationers understood courtesy. Or at least tact.

Breakfast was brought forth, a morning soup. It was common in the North as well, but there was no set recipe and thus it varied from household to household. Yue inhaled. Imported spices and tundra vegetables, and fish. It was filling, but not terribly heavy.

Yue watched as the Fire Nation sailors exchanged nervous looks with each other and she heard Katara snicker. One of them took a spoonful and she saw his face change. He grimaced at the texture and then swallowed, seeming placated at the blend of flavors.

The man with the full side burns picked up his cup of imported Earth Kingdom coffee and took a full sip, as if it did not burn his mouth. "I was hoping you had slept on the Phoenix King's offer," he thrummed his fingers on the table. "Surely chests full of gold and treasure would appeal even to you."

Hakoda's brows furrowed. He put his hands flat on the table and Yue saw his anger rising. She had learned that both Hakoda and his children were expressive, emotional people. She had learned they were prone to yelling and outbursts of laughter, uncouth behvaiors that would make her mother faint. Not the most diplomatic of people. "I've told you before just as I have told your king, my answer is and will continue to be no." He narrowed his eyes and Yue thought they looked like hard chips of ice. "We've shown you hospitality, but that is all we can offer."

Yue watched the man with the horrid side burns and saw rage rise up in his yellow eyes, rage that almost made her feel afraid. He gripped his cup and she saw his cup of coffee begin to steam and almost boil over.

He sipped.

"I understand," Commander Zhao said finally after he set his cup down, unbothered by the fact that he had drank a boiling beverage. He turned to finish his soup. His fellow Fire Nationers looked at him and Yue watched him closely, feeling a sort of nervous disgust in her stomach. "We will depart before nightfall."

"Good," Katara muttered under her breath and Yue suppressed her giggle. The southern princess set her bowl aside and looked towards her father. "May I leave?"

Hakoda nodded and Katara pushed aside away from the table, grabbing Yue's hand. She pulled her from her seat and Yue stumbled after her as they left the dining hall. "Where are we going?"

Katara shrugged. "I don't know, yet, but those firebenders are weird." She grabbed Yue's hand and the older girl noticed that the waterbender's hands were smooth and soft, and cool. "Sokka said it must be their climate."

Yue nodded. She had learned that the Phoenix King had slain his own brother and ascended the throne as both the Lord of the Fire Nation and as ruler of the loosely connected realm of kingdoms. The Fire Nation was very far away, she had thought, there wasn't much to fear.

Somehow, Yue found herself following Katara to the kennels. Yue did not find the smell and sound of animals as nice as Katara did, but she had grown to love the polar dogs, knowing most by name. There was Aga and Tala, and Amarok and Desna, and her own pup, Tui.

"Aga," Katara clicked her tongue as they approached the large nests and the large canine leaped free, bounding over to her. "I wonder do they have polar dogs in the Fire Nation?"

Yue grinned cheekily, "Island nations definitely have a need for arctic animals," she said and she was sure Sokka would be proud of her sarcasm. Tui bounced over to her, lapping at her hand and Yue stroked the coarse white fur.

Katara looked sourly at her.

Yue sat on the ground beside Katara, hoping that her lovely gown wouldn't get dirty. Katara didn't seem to mind, however, and she watched the polar dogs chase each other in play. "Katara," Yue began slowly and looked at her hands, "I think...I love it here," she said. When she arrived in the south, she had feared that the year would be dreadful. In the last month, however, she found that she enjoyed the wildness of the south. The ice in the north was cold and regal, while the south pole was unforgiving and emotional, as if it lived and breathed on its own.

The darker haired princess seemed pleased. She watched the polar dogs play, her fingers idly dancing and Yue noticed the ice moving beneath her hands. They sat in a quiet, comforting silence, a silence that was unusual for Katara. Yue thought it was peaceful, where Katara was normally a rushing cascade, now she was a gentle stream.

Yue closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would've been like if she had remained in the north and Katara had instead come to spend a year with her. She tried to imagine Katara giving up her bending, or being forced to simply be a healer, she tried to imagine her friend being an obedient daughter. She had learned that Polar Bear Dogs could not be tamed.

An easy silence fell over them.

And then there was the sound of yelling and the vicious roar of fire, the smell of smoke and suddenly Katara cried out.

Yue screamed.

Fire Nation soldiers had appeared in the courtyard, flames at their fists. Katara scrambled to her feet, snapping her wrist and forming an ice whip.

One of the soldiers fired a blast and the whip turned to steam. Katara pulled her hand back with a cry of alarm. Yue pressed closer to the southerner as the soldiers closed in. She snatched up Tui, holding the pup against her chest. One of the sailors grabbed her arm and she wailed at his scorching hot touch. She wondered if she would die here, so suddenly and painfully.

Instead, the soldier dragged her across the courtyard and back into the main halls of IcePoint. Tui yelped and Yue could hear Katara struggling, screaming wildly and kicking, like an animal. The polar dogs howled.

The sailors hauled them through the halls of the citadel. Yue looked back at Katara. The younger girl was flailing her limbs, making her body as heavy as possible, but her arms had been restrained so she could not bend. "Let go of me!" She snarled, "Let me go!"

They were dragged to the dining hall and Yue was forced onto her knees, hands wrenched behind her back. Her polar dog pressed fearfully against her thigh, shivering and whimpering. Katara was thrown down beside her with a cry, glaring dangerously at the Fire Nationers.

The doors of the hall opened and Yue felt sick at the sight before her. The dining hall had been painted in the ugliest shade of red Yue had ever seen.

The chief's guards lay splayed on the floor, their weapons in their hands and their eyes filled with both hatred and horror. Beside them lay an elderly woman and Yue felt tears well up in her eyes. _It's not her,_ she thought, _that's not my Yugoda. _

Yue's eyes traveled across the room and she saw the chief forced on his knees with Commander Zhao of the Fire Nation standing above him, Hakoda's own bone dagger in his hand and his palms glowing with firebending.

Zhao looked up at the princesses and smiled cruelly. "This, you see, is the unfortunate end that befalls those who oppose the Phoenix King." He yanked Hakoda's head back by his hair and Yue saw that the man's face remained defiant, his eyes glittering with both animosity and a regal sort of acceptance, a man who did not fear death or fire, but instead faced it with dignity.

"Don't look, Katara," Hakoda ordered, his voice steady and loving, sounding every bit as a father's should. "Don't look, Yue. You will not give him the satisfaction."

Yue squeezed her eyes shut, tight enough that she could see colors flickering across her lids and tight enough that the tears she had been holding back oozed from the corners of her eyes, warm and salty and stinging. "You will not give him the satisfaction, you will not give him the satisfaction." _It's not real._

"The South will stand!" Hakoda shouted.

Yue could not, would not, open her eyes. A sob was forced out of her and she tried to swallow the next one down, but it could not be contained. Her throat felt raw. "This is not real," she whispered, "this is not real."

The Fire Nation sailor behind her delivered a devastating blow to the back of her head and Yue found that she could not even cry out. Her eyes involuntarily opened and Yue saw red.

Then, black crawled over the edges of her vision, until Yue could only see the carnage before her. Then, even that faded and Yue felt herself falling forward, her cheek smashing painfully against the stone floor.

"This is not real."


	10. Captive

_Katara_

One of the Fire Nation soldiers shoved Katara hard, causing her to momentarily lose her step and stumble. He caught her shoulder before she could fall. Katara swallowed hard as he tied rope around her wrists. It was tight, but she found it did not affect her. She saw only the red on the walls and on the floor, and the black on the wall where the firebenders had singed it. She saw her family's friends and servants laying dead or unconscious on the floor. And every time she blinked, she saw her father.

He had told her to look away, to not give the firebenders the satisfaction of forcing her to watch, but she hadn't been able to look away. She had seen everything. She had seen it.

Katara had only been able to scream. The firebender holding her had warmed his hands, and still she screamed. She had screamed until he silenced her with a blow to the back of her head. When she awoke, she had been lying beside Yue on the dining hall floor. Yue had still been unconscious. The Fire Nation soldiers had piled up the most valuable things they could find in the corridors.

The firebender hauled Katara to her feet. The one beside him scooped up Yue and her polar dog. "What do we do with them?" The man carrying Yue asked. "We can't kill them."

"Says who?" The man named Zhao said. "But no, they'll be a...ransom of sorts, back in the Fire Nation. If their people still see the need to rebel, we'll have something important to them." He caught Katara's gaze and and she lunged at him. The firebender restraining her pulled her back, tightening his grip on her forearm. "And with no chief, they'll be without order."

"The South will never bend to the Fire Nation," Katara snapped, "not to you or your stupid king!"

Zhao smirked and produced a flame in his hand, holding it close to Katara's face. "I admire your people's pride, truly I do considering you all live in blocks of ice. But you see, little girl, your father the chief is _dead._ The South has one knee bent already. And once you are in the Fire Nation, they'll grovel at the Phoenix King's feet."

She spat in his face.

Zhao pulled away in disgust, eyes blazing. "Take the other girl and put her on the first ship, and because I feel kind, let her keep the polar dog, " he ordered, "but I want this one to watch." He laughed.

Katara watched as the firebender carried Yue away and another followed, gingerly holding the pup as it squirmed and yelped. "You already killed my father," she snarled, "I hope you know that nothing you can do can break us."

"I'm certain I have my ways," Zhao chuckled and turned to the pile of valuables on the ground. He knelt and picked up Hakoda's bone dagger, and cleaned it. He nodded and the man restraining Katara pulled her backwards, towards the exit of the dining hall.

Zhao conjured a ball of fire and hurled it at the pile of valuables. It caught fire almost immediately, with a roar and a brilliant flash of light. Katara shied away from the flame and the sudden smoke, feeling tears slide down her cheeks. Zhao grinned and brushed by them. "Burn it to the ground," he said casually and patted Katara on the cheek, his hand still warm. "Burn it all to the ground."

The Fire Nation soldier threw Katara over his shoulder and she watched as the dining hall caught fire, the flames licking at the walls. She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut. She saw the golden and orange flames dancing across her eyelids, and she saw her father, his last stand against the Fire Nation and she told herself that even though his blood was on the floor, she would be strong.

The trail of black smoke followed them and Katara gasped for air, flailing her legs. The soldier caught them and held on painfully, quickening his stride.

When Katara opened her eyes, they were outside. She saw Zhao up ahead and the sailor carrying Yue just in front of her. The white-haired princess's head lolled to the side, her braids coming loose. Katara wished she could waterbend with her mind. Perhaps she could bend the water and freeze the firebenders, perhaps she could find Sokka...

Sokka.

Katara opened her mouth to call for her brother, but thought better of it. Sokka was somewhere else, she thought, hopefully safe. Hopefully.

Katara thought about the snow and the ice, and her mother and her grandmother, and the stories she had told her. She did not think about her father or Sokka, she did not think about herself. She pictured a tiny white light and she called that light, hope.

That, she told herself, would never die.

A firebender blocked her view, holding up a strip of cloth. He wrapped it around her eyes, blindfolding her. She didn't need it, she wanted to tell him, because even though he covered her eyes she would still see, and she would remember.

She heard the ocean, a sound that was normally constant and gentle, but now it seemed to loud and violent. She heard the clanking of boots against a metal ramp and then she was set roughly on the ground. She found that it, too, was metal. The rope on her wrists was removed and Katara moved to rub her wrists, but her arms were forced to her sides by her capturer.

He marched her along, her steps resonating around her. The air grew warmer and Katara could feel the ocean beneath her, the ever-present hum of the water and the twitch of her fingers. She was a waterbender and it called to her, even now when she was separated from the ocean by metal and wood.

"Watch your step," the firebender said, more kindly than Katara had expected. He guided her up a set of stairs with one hand tightly gripping her and the other nudging her in the small of her back. "I'm not responsible for any busted lips."

"You're responsible for anything happening to me," Katara said to him, "if you hurt me, then you'll have to pay. My people won't stand for it." She placed one foot on the step, tapping her heel.

He laughed. "Little girl, your father was just _killed,_ do you not understand what that means? It means the south has already fallen, it means this block of ice has no leader. It means you have already lost." Katara could not see him, but she imagined his expression would be one of amusement and pity.

They reached the final step and continued down a corridor for a few paces. The firebender raised his leg and kicked in what sounded like a door, tearing off her blindfold in one fluid motion. He had led her to a room, which Katara found confusing. It wasn't terribly small and she was sure that aside from the color, it was decent for a prisoner.

The room was red.

Katara's stomach turned and she swallowed audibly, turning back to the firebender. He stepped out and closed the door, and Katara heard it lock into place, leaving her alone.

Katara sat and put her head in her hands. The red spun around her, and Katara saw her grandmother standing before her. She saw her brother and she saw Yue. Her father lay before her and Katara thought she might retch.

Her mother sat next to her, her hand laying on Katara's shoulder. The apparition was at least how Katara imagined her mother would look, her lovely blue eyes and soft brown skin. "It'll be alright," the illusion of her mother told her, "you must have hope."

"You must have hope," Katara repeated and looked down at her hands.

The ocean beneath her swayed and sang its ancient song, its wordless hum resonating through her veins until Katara could feel it dancing in every part of her being, raising the hairs on her arms and tightening her muscles, and coursing through her blood. She set her breaths to the push and pull of the sea, to the heartbeat of the ocean spirit, and for a long time, there was nothing but the water.


	11. Left Behind

"What are you doing? Let go!" Sokka snarled as Bato pulled him along, dragging him through the ice and the snow. "My dad and sister are back there, what are you doing?!" Several of his father's warriors pushed him forward and Sokka fought against them. "Bato!"

His father's friend had dragged him out of the dining hall just before chaos erupted and had not released him until they were away from IcePoint, running alongside the ocean, close enough to it that Sokka could taste the salt water if he breathed hard enough. They had veered sharply and were approaching a small town. Sokka struggled, wrenching his arm from Bato's steel grip. "We have to go back!"

The lanky man slowed to a stop and was silent, looking at Sokka with some combination of anguish and resolve. "Your father is dead," he said, "your father and sister are dead." He sighed, a tired sort of sigh that made his thin shoulders drag. "I could only save one of you, Sokka."

A thousand emotions crashed over Sokka at once. "What?" He said and he heard his voice crack. He swallowed. "What did you say?"

Bato looked down at his boots. "Your father knew he would not live today," he said so quietly that Sokka had to strain to hear him. "He told me to save you two," a tear slithered down his cheek, "but I could only save one. I had no choice, Sokka."

Sokka tried to imagine his sister. He had no doubt that she could defend herself, but not against firebenders. There was no way. "You should've saved Katara," he said quietly, "you had time, you should've saved her, not me."

Kunip, his friend, clasped his shoulder. "Sokka," he said and turned the younger man around so that he faced the way they had come, so that over the snow mounds he could see the rising swell of black smoke from where IcePoint should've been. "Look."

The South was on fire.

His home was on fire. Sokka clenched his jaw and his fists and Kunip held him in place, as if he would fall over any moment. Sokka watched the thick black smoke rise and spread out over the sky. He watched for a long time. He sat in the snow and put his head in his hands. He imagined the Fire Nation infiltrators raiding his home before they set it ablaze, imagined all the people he had known suddenly be gone, as if a great spirit had blown out a candle.

Sokka felt sick. "What about the city and IcePoint? It's burning down!" He looked back at Bato and the older man looked back at him, his eyes apologetic and angry at the same time. "You're letting it burn down! We have to go back!"

"I had no choice," Bato repeated and turned away, walking through the snow. The other men nudged Sokka along, and he could see that their jaws were tight and their eyes red. "Sokka."

Part of Sokka knew it was right. It was only logical to save one member of the royal family when he couldn't save the others. Still, he wished that Bato had rescued Katara instead. Perhaps both Yue and Katara, if it had been possible. Yue didn't deserve it. None of them did.

_Life's not fair, Sokka_, he told himself. He had been fortunate, he was born into a loving family and had no wants that could not be fulfilled. Except perhaps the want of a mother, but that couldn't be helped. It could've been worse. Much worse.

Bato embraced him, an unbreakable hug that pulled Sokka against his chest. Sokka breathed in the older man's scent, for once unashamed at the display of "unmanliness". Bato smelled like the last remnants of the south, of what had just been destroyed and Sokka was not one for sentiment, but his eyes began to sting.

"Bato," he whispered, words for Bato's ear alone, "I'm sad. And I'm scared. And I don't know what to do." He felt his friend's hand on his head, felt his narrow body through the thick parka.

There was a lingering silence. "You're going to avenge your family," Bato said softly, fervently. "You're the last Polar Bear Dog. You're going to avenge your father and your sister, and the south." He looked down at Sokka and Sokka found that he suddenly felt very young and helpless, he couldn't remember what it was like when his mother died but he imagined this feeling was a hundred times worse.

Sokka looked back over the hills, saw the trail of black smoke. He was the ruler of a burning palace, the chief of a people now under attack. "I don't have a plan for this," he said, "I never thought this would happen."

"Your father did," Bato told him, "Hakoda had considered a plan for if anything happened to him, he'd thought of this when you and Katara were still babies." Sokka hadn't known his father was so meticulous, it had never occurred to him. He figured Katara got her impulsiveness from their mother. "If the south became unsafe for you, you'd be taken to Whale Tail Island, or to the Earth Kingdoms."

"Why not the Southern Air Temple, with the airbenders?" Sokka asked. "They're pacifists."

His father's friend smiled softly, sadly. "That's exactly why. If anything happened to him or to the south, Hakoda wanted you to have someone to fight beside. Should the south fall, Hakoda wanted you to build an army."

"Dad...Dad said there would be nothing to worry about," Sokka said and as the words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself. His father wasn't stupid, his father had been thinking ahead, he had made plans if something went wrong. His father had probably lain awake at night, considering every possible scenario. His father had been the biggest worrier of them all.

Sokka wondered why that made him feel so disgusted with himself. That his father had been worrying for years and he had never noticed.

Bato continued to trek through the snow, closer to the tiny town. He moved faster now and the warriors followed, almost feverishly. Kunip pulled Sokka after him and the younger man could see people running towards them from the village.

A middle-aged woman was the first to meet them, followed by three men. "We saw smoke coming from IcePoint," she said urgently to Bato, "What's happening? Is the citadel on fire?"

The lean man stopped before her, a heavy frown on his face. He looked back at Sokka. "A terrible thing has happened," he said to the group, "a group of firebenders abused our hospitality, Chief Hakoda and his guard, and daughter were killed. IcePoint is burning as we speak...the south...the south is defeated."

The woman looked appalled and tears sprang into her eyes. The Polar Bear Dogs were beloved throughout the south, they were a dynasty that both loved and were loved by their people. "It can't be," she said, "it's not possible, we're not at war?"

Bato sighed. "Not yet, at least. But now the Tribe is without a capital and is at the mercy of the Fire Nation. If we were to retaliate now, the south would surely be completely destroyed," he pulled Sokka forward, "we have Sokka, we have our chief." Sokka forced himself to look bigger and braver. "And when the fire has burned out, we'll see what survived."

IcePoint was made of ice and stone, Sokka thought, there had to be something that survived.

The middle aged woman and the group of men guided them the rest of the way into the town and into the first building, a longhouse that served as their meeting place and infirmary. The first thing that Sokka noticed was that it was warm and brightly lit, yet somehow comforting at the same time. The woman led them to a wide room decorated with chairs that had soft furs thrown over them.

Sokka flopped down, exhaling loudly. The older woman looked sympathetically at him. Sokka sank into his seat, feeling the fur covering underneath his fingertips. "Why did we come here?"

"Because it was the first place I thought of," Bato replied, almost sheepishly. He looked down at his feet, something Sokka noticed he did when he was at a conflict. It was almost a childish gesture. "I had to get you to safety."

For a brief moment, Sokka considered the irony of the situation. Just a day ago, he had been confident that the Fire Nation could not touch them. Now his home was on fire and his family slaughtered. In a matter of hours.

It was almost laughable. If Sokka was one for tears, it would've been worth crying about. Tears were Katara's specialty.

The woman flicked her wrist and one of the men who had accompanied her hurried away. "This doesn't feel real," she said and sat. "This all feels like some kind of joke. A very unfunny one, but a joke nonetheless."

"Tell me about it!" Sokka drawled.

"We'll need to borrow a few sleds," Bato said to the woman, "and some lanterns. We're not just going to salvage IcePoint, but we're going to take care of survivors as well. Sokka will be come chief and the tribe will have a leader, and we'll go from there." He tapped his feet, "it can be done in a day or two."

"You're being too optimistic," Sokka wanted to say but held his tongue. The man who had been sent away returned, carrying a tray of tea and seal jerky. He passed each of the warriors a cup and a handful of jerky, and as he passed Sokka saw the resemblance between him and the woman. Relatives, he decided, but not mother and son.

"Anything for the new chief," the woman said and Sokka knew that she meant it, "anything for the south."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to see this?" Bato asked, "it might not be anything left. It definitely won't be pretty."

Sokka looked at the lanterns hanging from the arctic camel's harness, at the sled attached to the rings hanging from it. Then he looked at the snow mounds, where the smoke had finally disappeared and the sky was growing dark as the sun set. "I don't know, maybe IcePoint needed some severe remodeling. Pssh, ice walls were _so _last century," he joked and Bato stared at him. Sokka sighed. "I have to go. I'm the...I'm the chief now."

Bato dipped his head and held up the oil lantern in his hand. "Let's go!" He said and the men around him began to move. The bells on the arctic camels' jingled softly and the lanterns swayed with them. Sokka followed, clutching the side of the camel's harness.

They sounded a bit like a funeral procession, Sokka thought. They trekked through the snow, towards the red-orange dot in the sky. A funeral procession for the old chieftain, and the dark beginning of his own reign. Sokka, the Chief at War. That had a type of ring to it.

It seemed as though the walk back to IcePoint was much longer than before, but Sokka figured it was because his mind had been in disarray and they had been running. They were in no hurry to go back, which was understandable. Sokka wasn't sure what he go back to, but he knew it wouldn't be home.

"We're right here for you, buddy," Kunip said to him and squeezed Sokka's arm. "We're not going to let you do this alone, alright?" He looked at Sokka with a type of awe and pity, as if he could not believe that the new chief was only fifteen years old and had hunted with him countless times.

The final stretch back to IcePoint was in silence. Sokka glanced at Bato, seeing his thin features drawn taut, as if he had aged ten years all of a sudden. They crested the last snow mound and Sokka felt his knees grow weak. Partially from exhaustion, and the fact that below them sat IcePoint.

Or rather, what was left of it.

The formidable citadel had been reduced to a pile of smoldering material and stone walls singed black. There were a few buildings and halls left untouched, and Sokka saw the stable animals wandering aimlessly throughout the rubble, as if unsure what to do. Sokka caught the scent of things burning and of things that had burned.

"Well," he shrugged, "It's not so bad."

Bato led them throughout the desolated complex. He stepped over the soot and ash, and nudged aside what appeared to be the remains of a door. As he moved it, a person became visible. Sokka's breath hitched in his throat as the person's fingers trembled. They raised their head, revealing a soot-stained face and reddened eyes. The person reached out and clutched Bato's hand when he knelt to his level.

"Firebenders," the man rasped and Sokka recognized him as one of his father's warriors. "Firebenders...Hakoda.." His blue eyes were streaming, "the princesses...everybody. Killed."

Bato looked sympathetically at the warrior, hand clasping his tightly. He said no words, but instead gestured for one of the sleds. "Take him to the village over the hill," he said, meaning the orphan village, "and tell them what has happened. Tell them to be prepared."

He continued, as if unbothered by the smoke. Sokka followed, squinting as his eyes began to feel irritated and his throat sore. He wondered if they would encounter anything unsavory, like a body.

_Spirits_, he thought and for a brief moment, he wondered if the gods had any compassion at all, _don't let it be Katara or Dad. _

Sokka heard a howl and the sound of a hacking cough. Bato turned to him and nodded solemnly, passing quickly over the rubble. The sound came from one of the halls that had been relatively untouched. Bato passed through an overhang and Sokka paused. "I'm pretty sure this was a wall before," he commented.

Nestled against the wall was a cluster of their family's workers. A kitchen girl had her arms thrown around a mass of dirty gray and white fur. She was the first to look up and Sokka saw that nearly all of her hair had been burned off, her skin bearing both dirt and bruises. The condition of her person was just an example of the others, and Sokka thought that if the survivors looked like that, then he didn't want to know what the victims looked like.

"It's Sokka," the kitchen girl exclaimed, "it's Sokka!"

The others looked up and Sokka saw that the mass of fur in the kitchen girl's arms was in fact a polar dog. Two, Sokka realized. Desna and Amarok. There was some kind of symbolism in that, Sokka thought. He approached them and one of the servants tried to rise, but yelped in pain. Sokka saw that his arms were horribly burned.

"They set everything on fire," the kitchen girl sniffled, "and we tried to stop them but they were too strong, or we were too late. We tried to get to the polar dogs, but we only saved three. Katara's and your two," her hands shook, "but the female ran off."

Sokka nodded absently. As much as he loved them, the polar dogs could wait. "But surely there are more survivors, right? This can't be all."

"They must've run off," the girl answered and flinched. "Why did this happen to us?! Why did the spirits allow this to happen?"

"Because," Sokka said, more bitterly than he'd anticipated, "everybody wants to rule the world."

A sled was pulled over to them and Sokka left the survivors to be tended to, wandering through the blackened halls of the citadel. It wasn't home. He would rule in a palace of rubble. A fortress that couldn't even withstand the attack of firebenders.

He pressed his hand against the wall, rubbing his fingers together when his hand came back blackened with soot. He roamed through the corridor until he came to the room that had once been his father's chambers, where he had made countless decisions for the good of his family and people.

It was untouched.

Hakoda's items lay in the place he left him, scrolls and parchment splayed in some kind of haphazard pattern that only the man had understood. There were paint and ink stains, and a stone meticulously chipped into the crude shape of a Polar Bear Dog. His cloak hung across his seat and Sokka picked it up, setting it carefully across his shoulders. He snapped the clasp into place and sat in his father's seat- his seat now- and laid his hands flat-palmed on the desk.

For an indistinguishable amount of time, Sokka sat alone, in his own silence.

"We found him," Bato's voice said as he appeared at the door. "Do you...want see him one last time, before he's dressed for the funeral?" He lifted his leg, as though he wanted to step inside but thought better of it. "Sokka?"

Part of Sokka wanted to refuse, to keep the best image he had of his father in his mind. He rose to his feet. "Yes," he replied, "I want to see him."

His childhood guardian led him down the hall where half of the wall had been disintegrated. On a stretcher made from wood, a heavy blanket was settled. Bato gently pushed the new chief forward and Kunip, who was standing guard over the stretcher stepped aside and turned his back.

Sokka bent and held his breath, peeling the blanket back slowly. He peeked, seeing brown hair and brown skin, and closed eyes. _He looks asleep_ he thought gratefully, _this isn't so bad. _

He pulled the rest of the cloth away.

Sokka wasn't sure what came first, the dry heaving or the choked sobs. He knew that Bato grabbed his shoulders, flinging him away and throwing the blanket back over the former chief's body. Sokka lunged, throwing a blow at the nearest solid thing possible, Bato. The older man caught it easily and held Sokka against him. "I hate them!" Sokka snarled, "I hate _him_!"

"I know," Bato said and stroked Sokka's hair. "I know." He sighed raggedly, thin frame heaving with the effort.

_"You're a man grown now."_

_"I won't let you down, Dad."_

He was a Polar Bear Dog, he did not bend or break. Sokka swallowed hard. "There's a chest of gold," he began, raising his voice as he continued, "somebody find it. And somebody spread the news." He reached for his boomerang at his belt and turned to face Bato, who looked at him curiously. Sokka looked at the survivors and the warriors with him. "The South has not fallen."

* * *

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	12. The Wedding

_Lu-Ten_

The earth and grass was still damp from the night rain as Lu-Ten picked his way through it, spear in hand. The air was cool, the sun had not yet penetrated the thick tree canopy. Lu-Ten figured it would be a pleasant day, an auspicious day. He felt it in his blood and in his bones.

He had awakened just as the sun rose, and to the Sun People that was a good sign.

"If we don't hurry, you'll throw off everyone's timing," Lallo said from behind him, his shorter legs working to keep pace. "Do you even remember the words, Lu-Ten?"

Lu-Ten looked back at him and scoffed. "Of course I remember the words, Lallo. What do you take me for?" He chuckled and Lallo raised his brows, a look of pure skepticism. "I mean it, I remember the words."

Lallo grunted. "Don't give my sister a bad face, Lu-Ten," he said, "you know she's been waiting to marry you since she was a little girl. And I agreed, because I know that you will be good to Yaretzi. Odd girl that she is."

Their engagement had been solidified when Lu-Ten had trapped the leopon, some few weeks ago. Lu-Ten had imagined it to just be by chance, the beast had simply miscalculated. Tuwa had called it a sign and Tonatiuh had declared it to be a good omen. Immediately after, the preparations for the wedding had begun. The leopon had been skinned and turned into a cloak, and its remains had been set alight to release its spirit.

Lu-Ten had learned that women took more pride in weddings than men. Yaretzi had been continously bathed and showered with various sweet scents, her hair brushed until it shimmered. She had been fitted for new clothes that were sewn by the older women of the city, and covered in red ink tattoos from her feet to her forehead. She had told him, in the few times that she had been allowed to speak to him, that she had been ordered to sleep on the temple steps for two nights in a row, to become more like Citlali the Mother.

As a man, Lu-Ten's only day of preparation was the day of the actual wedding. He was headed to small, clear pond to join Tonatiuh, the leader of the Sun People, and the rest of the men, where they would dip him in the water. It would wash him of any impurities, so that Citlali and Tenochizun, and Agni would recognize him as a new man.

He stepped through the undergrowth, hearing the ripple of the water and dim murmur of voices. As he entered the clearing, he met the gaze of Tonatiuh. "Ah, there he is," Tonatiuh grinned. As the chief, he oversaw many of the people's events, like weddings and funerals, the birth of the first child.

Lu-Ten smiled softly and shed his vest, passing it to Lallo. The smaller man folded it neatly as Lu-Ten stood before Tonatiuh, dipping his head. Tonatiuh gestured for him to open his hand and Lu-Ten complied, watching as the Sun Warrior created a small, golden flame. He transfered it to Lu-Ten's hands and the younger man felt his energy stir to life, keeping the flame anchored.

Fire was life, Tuwa had taught him, it gave and it took away.

"Before us and before the spirits is a man waiting to cross into the next phase of his life," Tonatiuh looked up, beyond the trees to where the sun was climbing up into the sky. "And before our witness, he will wash himself of the old and come out anew." He put his hands on Lu-Ten's shoulders, nodding for him to step in the pond.

Lu-Ten held the flame and dipped head first into the crystalline water, closing his eyes. He held his breath.

A dragon flew by him, coiling its tail around his neck. Its golden eyes searched his and Lu-Ten tried to pull away, but it wrapped its cerulean wings around him. Lu-Ten flailed his arms. "You mustn't forget," the dragon growled, "you will not forget." It blew a breath and Lu-Ten saw sparks of fire fall from its nostrils, drifting to the bottom of the pond.

He burst back through to the surface, gasping for breath. The others watched him curiously as he waded back to the earth and laid his head on the dirt. He looked up at Tonatiuh's face as the bigger man stood over him, offering his hand. Lu-Ten accepted it, standing. As he did so, Lallo stepped closer to him. "Are you alright?"

Lu-Ten considered it for a moment. He had experienced recurring dreams lately. In some, he was sitting before Tenochizun and Citlali, and the dragon was coiled on his shoulder. In others, he was alone in a great red room where blue and gold fire licked at the walls. The room seemed very familiar, and Lu-Ten figured that it was some fragment of a very distant, very faded memory. Both of the dreams had unnerved him, but he didn't understand why. "Yes," he said finally, "I'm alright."

"Good," Tonatiuh said, interrupting them, "now it's time to get you back in time to get married." He clapped Lu-Ten on the shoulder, as he often did.

Lu-Ten did not love Yaretzi, at least not in the way that a man would love his bride. She was lovely and interesting, a girl both beautiful and odd, but Lu-Ten did not feel the fiery, passionate love that he had witnessed in other couples. Tonatiuh had told him that he did not love his wife at first, but the spirits had kindled a fire between them. They would do the same for him. He found that he was nervous, more nervous than he had expected.

They fell into line back to the secluded city. Tonatiuh paused and jerked his head, "You walk in front today, Lu-Ten, you're going to be a new man. A married man."

Lu-Ten nodded and moved to the front. Water still trickled down his nose and soaked his hair, which had been closely shaven. He had witnessed countless weddings, but had never realized the effort that went into the preparations.

As they entered the village-city, Lu-Ten saw Lallo's mother, Tuwa waiting for them. She stood impatiently and Lu-Ten realized that she was stretched thin between preparing both Lu-Ten and his bride. She was Yaretzi's mother and had taken part in raising Lu-Ten as a child, she had tended to his mishaps and answered his questions. She was the closest thing to a mother that he had known.

"Come with me," she said to him as he approached, and wasted no time taking his hand. Her grip was warm and firm. She dragged him after her, across the dirt and stone village enter. The city of the Sun Warriors was hidden in a valley, protected by a vast jungle. The Sun Warriors were a cryptic people.

"What's the rush for?" Lu-Ten asked and Tuwa looked over her shoulder at him.

She released his hand and Lu-Ten saw that she had led him to another woman's home. It was the home of a widow, whose name evaded him but Lu-Ten remembered that the woman made jewelry from precious stones and other odd materials, tempered by her firebending. Tuwa smiled. "I asked her for a favor," she said. Sun People did not buy things with currency for the most part, they had no need for it. Instead, they gave others what they had in exchange for what they wanted. "Go ahead."

Lu-Ten stepped inside of the stone structure, finding it dim but not unpleasant. He cleared his throat loudly.

"I am here," a feminine voice called from further inside the abode and Lu-Ten followed it to its source, to a room lit by firebending. In it sat the widow, on the floor with her legs crossed and her hands tangled in a ball of string. "You're the Fire Nation boy, yes?" She did not look up at him and her voice was quiet, but she did not seem terribly old. "Their prince."

"I'm more of a Sun Warrior than a Fire Nationer," Lu-Ten said and resisted rolling his eyes. He had been raised amongst the Sun People since he was three years old, they were the only nation that Lu-Ten had known and had cared to think about. "I have been for twenty years, if you haven't noticed."

The widow withdrew her hands from the ball of string. "You cannot deny what you are," she said plainly and raised her head. Her eyes were the richest brown Lu-Ten had ever seen. Her olive skin was just beginning to age, fine wrinkles appearing near her eyes and mouth. "But take no offense. Tuwa wanted me to craft something for your wedding." She reached behind her and beckoned for Lu-Ten to open his hands.

In it, she laid a necklace and a bracelet. Lu-Ten examined them. The necklace had been bound by gold thread and was adorned with red and black stones and a smooth, odd stone in the center. The bracelet had been made the same way. Lu-Ten ran his finger over the odd blue stone. "What is this?"

"Dragon scale," the widow told him. "A gift for you and your bride," she said. "They came from the foot of the Twin Caves."

There had been talk that the dragons were stirring from their dormancy in the Twin Caves and would emerge to go on a great hunt. They could be heard roaring sometimes, or occasional streams of brilliant colored flame would appear at the mouth of the cave. Lu-Ten didn't find it surprising that their scales would find themselves on the ground below.

"Thank you," he said and dipped his head. "Yaretzi will be very grateful as well." He knew that to be true. Yaretzi was a girl amused by jewelry and trinkets, as interested in them as she was in stories and myths.

The widow's deep brown eyes twinkled. Sun People had eyes that were brown and black, or amber. Lu-Ten's eyes were pure gold, Fire Nation eyes. "You're a lucky boy," she said suddenly, "I remember when you were brought here, twenty years ago. Everyone does."

Lu-Ten sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I suppose I've become a foreigner over night to some people. Do I look any different?"

She laughed. "No," she said and patted the stone floor, urging him to sit. "But you have come a long way from then. You were a scared little boy, only three years old. You had scratches and bruises, and you did not stop crying. Now," she continued, "you are a man, soon to be a married man, and a respected Sun Warrior. What else could you ask for? What more could you want?"

Lu-Ten thought about the experience in the temple, where he had come face to face with Tenochizun and Citlali, and the dragon. They had told him that he was to make the world for the gods again, that he was destined to be the Lord of the Fire Nation. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing."

The older woman waved her hand. "Yes," she said and Lu-Ten found that he didn't understand. He furrowed his brow as the widow dismissed him with an absent-minded wave.

He pushed himself to his feet and made his way through the dark house, back to the entrance. Tuwa was leaning against the side of the house and looked up as he appeared, grinning. "Do you like them?" She asked, gesturing to the necklace and bracelet.

Lu-Ten opened his fist and nodded. "I think Yaretzi will as well." He paused, "can I see her?"

Tuwa looked torn. "You aren't supposed to," she said, "and she hasn't been allowed to see you since preparations began in earnest...just not for too long, alright?"

He followed her, back to her own home. The stone house had windows cut and was one of the larger homes on this side of the village-city, closest to the jungle. Lu-Ten remembered days from his childhood when he thought the house was too small for all of them. There were two siblings between Lallo and Yaretzi, though Lu-Ten had never gotten along with them as well as Lallo.

Tuwa's youngest was playing in the dirt with her twelve year old son and seven year old daughter, who paused when Lu-Ten approached. The boy wrinkled his nose in accusation, "we can't go inside because you and Yaretzi are getting /married/," he said, "and all the girls smell like flowers."

"I like flowers," the seven year old girl said and her brother rolled his eyes. "Will Yaretzi still live with us after you're...married?"

Lu-Ten smiled lightly, "No," he said, "we'll live together." There wouldn't be much difference, he thought. Though Lu-Ten had his own modest home, he spent much of his time at Tuwa's. She was a much better cook. "There'll be more space."

Tuwa's twelve year old boy sighed in relief. "Mother will let me have Yaretzi's room," he said, as though this had already been determined. "I'll be the oldest in the house." He was one of the middle children, with four older siblings and two younger.

"That means you'll have to take on the responsibilities of being the oldest in the house," Lu-Ten patted the boy's bald head and entered the house. He was struck with an odd sense of nostalgia. Tuwa's house was sparsely decorated, due to having several rambunctious children living in it, but placed high on the walls were various artifacts that she had been collecting since she herself was a child. He spotted a worn down arrowhead, and a feathered bracelet, remnants of Tuwa's adventures as a youth. His favorite decoration, though, was the painting.

On the left wall of the house's main room was a large painting detailing the steps of a firebending kata. It looked more like a dance to Lu-Ten, each figure moving fluidly into the next, as if it was endless.

He heard talking coming from one of the sleeping rooms on the right side of the house. Lu-Ten drifted towards the source of the noise and stopped before the entrance of the room. He peeked inside.

Tuwa's eldest girl, Yaretzi's older sister, and several other women were standing around Yaretzi, their hands working on different things at once. One was brushing Yaretzi's hair and another was coloring in the tattoos on her hands. Still another was fixing the hem on her dress.

Lu-Ten coughed lightly.

All of the women turned towards him in unison and shrieked. Yaretzi's sister clapped her hand over his eyes and spun him around. "You can't see her!"

"You can't see me!" Yaretzi shouted from inside the room.

Moema, Yaretzi's sister, shoved him. "You know it's against the rules, Lu-Ten, don't give her a bad face." She glared at him, as she had often done when they were children. "You have to leave."

Lu-Ten blinked. "Tuwa said I could see her, but just a few moments," he told her and Moema deflated. "I already promised Lallo I wouldn't give her a bad face."

Moema had fought Lu-Ten just as much as she had fought Lallo when they were younger. They were only a year apart, and Tuwa's second oldest son would've been nineteen summers had he not passed away as a child. "You better not," she grumbled and stepped aside. "Or I'll strangle you, as sure as the sun rises I'll strangle you."

Yaretzi sat with her hands in her lap, eyes downcast. Lu-Ten could see her biting her lip to withhold her smile though. He took a moment to take in her appearance, and Lu-Ten thought that he had never seen a woman become such a beautiful bride.

Her skin seemed more supple, and soft to the touch, and her dark hair was pulled into a high tail bound by a red ribbon. A gold ring had been place on her upper arm and from her temples and downward were spiraling red tattoos. She seemed to be eternal, Citlali personified as every bride was meant to be.

"The world isn't going to end if you look at me, Yaretzi," Lu-Ten said and her head snapped up. Her eyes, which were wide and brown, sparkled. "How are we supposed to stay married if you can't even look at me right now?"

Yaretzi grinned nervously. "What if something happens and then we can't get married because I looked at you?" She asked and Lu-Ten looked incredulously at her, exchanging glances with Moema. Yaretzi had a way with odd theories, that only she could understand.

She took his hand and stepped closer to him, so close that he could see the quiet desperation in her eyes. "Do you still want to marry me?" She asked and her grip tightened.

Lu-Ten suppressed a sigh. "Yaretzi," he said slowly, "you don't have to ask this. I promised you. I promised Lallo, and this evening I'm going to promise the spirits." He looked down at her, her searching eyes boring into him.

"Do you lo-" she broke off and shook her head quickly, releasing his hand as if he had burned her. "I'm sorry," she said and stepped away from him.

Lu-Ten flinched. He had no answer for her. He did not love Yaretzi in the way that she loved him, in the way that he hoped would come to him. He had found that he didn't have the same love for her and she had for him, the same precocious infatuation. He met her gaze and hoped she would understand, hoped that she would find some reassurance and that she would understand.

He left the room with Moema's sharp gaze on him. She had not heard their exchange, but Moema knew them both. She did not take slights lightly.

When he exited the house, the twelve year old boy was waiting for him. "You grown ups are weird," he said and opened his hands, letting a small red flame hover between them.

"I don't wanna grow up," his seven year old sister said and the boy groaned in exasperation. "Do we have to grow up, Lu-Ten? And get married?"

He shook his head, "You don't have to get married, but you do have to grow up." He knelt to her level. He didn't interact with the younger children very much, and he scarcely knew the baby. "But you have a long way to go." The little girl took his hand. She would grow up to look like Yaretzi, he could see that already. But perhaps she wouldn't be so peculiar. He opened his palms, revealing a golden flame. The three children were drawn to it. "Fire is life," he said, "it gives and it takes away."

* * *

Tuwa took the cloak made from the leopon and draped it across Lu-Ten's shoulders. She turned him to face her and adjusted it, appraising him. "Very nice," she said after a moment's pause.

Lu-Ten couldn't stop his chest from rising with pride. It was a fine robe, that much was obvious. A robe won by chance, and too valuable to neglect. Tuwa smiled at him. "Are you ready?"

The people of the village-city were already gathered, some of them using their firebending as the sun began to set. There was the sound of drums beating, a rhythm that reminded Lu-Ten of a slow pounding heart. "I'm ready," he answered and Tuwa nodded.

She led him out of his home, which would not seem so empty, and to the center of the city. Lallo seemed to appear from nowhere, coming to Lu-Ten's side with a chuckle.

The crowd of people separated and Lu-Ten saw Tonatiuh standing at the head of them, face painted in the bold red markings of the chief. He wore the chief's headdress, making him seem even taller than he was, as if he was Agni in the flesh. Eyes drew to him like moths to flame.

Beside him stood Yaretzi, fidgeting ever so slightly. She wrung her hands, her eyes flickering back and forth but Lu-Ten thought she looked even prettier than she had earlier that day. The dress she wore was deep red and gold, shimmering in the sunset.

"Don't forget the words," Lallo whispered as Lu-Ten stepped away from them, pulling the bracelet and necklace from a pocket in his vest. He stood before Yaretzi, feeling countless brown and amber gazes on his back.

Yaretzi's eyes did not leave his as he clasped the necklace around her throat, the dragon scale settling just below her neck. Lu-Ten smiled encouragingly and she opened her hands, cradling a ball of fire between them. Lu-Ten took a half step back and raised his voice, "I, Lu-Ten of the Sun Warriors, take this woman as my wife- if she accepts me, and before the gods and spirits I promise to value and to keep her."

His bride froze, as if she did not quite believe that he was real, as if she thought that he would've left her on the day of their wedding. "I accept," she said finally, quietly, "and before the spirits and the gods, I will value and keep him."

"Before the watchful eyes of the Sun People and the gods and the spirits, this man and this woman will be joined in marriage," Tonatiuh said and took Yaretzi's left hand and Lu-Ten's right. "They will be Tenochizun and Citlali in the flesh, joined until the great spirit-god Agni closes his eye for eternity." He joined their hands.

The ball of fire Yaretzi had been holding was joined between them, sending a jolt through Lu-Ten's arm. He accepted the flame and they raised their arms together, letting the golden sparks balance between them. Tonatiuh took a red string and wound it around their wrists.

And then they were married.

The drums began to beat once more and Lu-Ten grasped Yaretzi's hand as people moved closer to them. They congratulated them and Lu-Ten nodded to each of them.

"You'll be spending the night in the temple," Tonatiuh said to them and Yaretzi stiffened. "Better go on before it gets too dark to see."

Beside him, Yaretzi was petrified. She had not considered _that _and Lu-Ten admitted that he hadn't either. He had engaged in trysts on occasion, but something told him that it was not the same.

He squeezed her hand and dipped his head so that his mouth was close to her ear. "Yaretzi," he said slowly, firmly, "you know we don't have to, don't you?" She blushed and he went on, "we don't have to." She seemed surprised and Lu-Ten remembered that she was seventeen, still idealistic and ignorant at the same time. He cursed Moema for making her believe she had to do something she didn't want to do.

Yaretzi smiled, an odd smile that Lu-Ten didn't quite understand. She pulled him forward and led the way across the village, towards the temple. She used her bending to light the way and they did not speak. Lu-Ten understood that there was no need to.

She led him to the temple and stopped before they reached the first step. The light from the fire cast shadows across her face, illuminating her brown eyes. "You first," she said and Lu-Ten complied, removing his shoes as he ascended the stone steps of the temple.

They entered the main chamber together and Lu-Ten moved to light the wickers on the statues. Citlali and the dragon bathed the chamber in a dim, warm glow, their fierce eyes set on Lu-Ten and his new wife.

Lu-Ten sat.

Just behind him, just out of sight, he heard the stone dragon roar. The sound reverberated through his skin, causing the hair on his neck and arms to rise. Lu-Ten clenched his teeth and looked towards Yaretzi, wondering if she could sense his discomfort. He wondered if she had heard the dragon, too.

"They won't leave you alone," she told him, her legs tucked under her and her hands twitching in her lap. That was her answer, he decided. She had heard it as well. "They aren't going to leave you alone."

"Who?" Lu-Ten asked, although he already knew the answer.

"The gods," Yaretzi answered and waved her hand. "You're important to them...well all of us are important to them, but they already told you what they want you to do. This is their world, Lu-Ten. You can't ignore the gods. You'll have to answer them."

"How?"

Yaretzi spread her fingers and turned her lips up in the beginnings of a thin smile. "I think you already know how," she said, and she seemed saddened, yet somehow coy at the same time. **"By** doing what they want."


	13. Escape

_Katara_

There was the sound of boots clanking against metal and Katara found herself startled from her state of semi-awareness, licking her lips. The door of her room- cell- opened and she looked up from her spot on the floor beside the bed.

The Fire Nation commander stood in the doorway, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "Ah," he said with a chuckle, "the fighter." He stepped froward and she saw two younger sailors behind him, though they didn't follow. "You must be hungry. It's been what, three days, four days since your last meal?" He smirked.

Katara glared at him and wished she could spit at him, but spit was water and she hadn't had more than a cup of it in almost five days. "I'll pass," she snarled and she saw that one of the soldiers had a tray of food in his hands, freshly prepared judging from the steam rising from it and the smell. Any other time, her mouth would have watered.

Zhao snapped his fingers and the younger man entered the room, setting the tray of food before her. Zhao knelt and met her gaze as he picked up the chopsticks and gathered a bit of food from one of the bowls. He raised the food to his mouth and took a prolonged bite, chewing slowly as though he wanted to savor every sensation and flavor. He grinned. "My orders were to keep you alive," he said, "they didn't specify to what extent."

He'd been torturing her for almost five days. It was slow, agonizing torture. None of them had laid a hand on her, but they would restricted her to a cup of water a day. She was a waterbender, giving her anymore would be like giving her a weapon. Meals were few and far between. She was hungry, and it seemed as though the hole in her chest was growing larger, but she was the South and she would endure.

The south did not ever forget.

"Of course," he went on, "you can eat. I won't hold anything against you, go ahead and take a bite." He laughed and Katara narrowed her eyes. "We're still two weeks away from the Fire Nation, you can't resist forever."

"I'll eat on my own accord," she snapped and Zhao threw back his head in laughter, as if what she had said was highly amusing. Katara bared her teeth and lunged at him, fingers outstretched as if it to grab for his eyes.

The bigger man caught both of her hands in one of his, lifting her off of her feet. She shouted wordlessly in exasperation, glaring at him and she wished that she could freeze him with waterbending, she would freeze them all.

He flung her down carelessly and Katara gathered herself. "Your white-haired sister doesn't fight. She's a good girl, I've even allowed her to keep her pet. But you...you!" His nostrils flared, "You're quite the challenge."

The firebender stormed from the room and his underlings followed, closing the door quietly behind them. After a moment's pause, one of the younger sailors returned and grabbed the tray of food, looking apologetically at Katara from under his visor. "Sorry," he said and winced, "it's my orders."

They left her in silence as quickly as they had come, though she was more awake than she had been before. Katara drew her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes.

The ocean swayed.

Yue was getting fed. Yue was being treated like an actual human. Yue was taken care of. Yue was a northerner and northerners bent.

Katara liked Yue, but Yue hadn't seen her own father be murdered before her very eyes, she hadn't seen her home be set on fire.

The ocean swayed and Katara was hungry.

There was a full moon tonight, she could tell by the way the ocean's energy thrummed in her veins, giving her nourishment when food was no available. The moon proved to her that she was alive, that this was no dream even though she desperately wished it to be so.

Katara reached for the small map that Zhao had tossed her to keep her entertained. There was some ulterior motive behind it, but she couldn't discern what it might be. She pulled it closer and studied it, finding that it was of the sea routes to the Fire Nation archipelago. Tracing it with her fingernail, Katara saw the south pole and the Southern Sea. It was the ocean that surrounded the Southern Water Tribe and most of the land masses in the south pole. They were still in the south, she thought, home was still within reach.

Whale Tail Island would be the last safe haven, Katara thought, but they were far beyond that. By now, the ship was sailing out of the Southern Sea and towards the Earth Kingdoms.

Home was within reach, but just barely.

Home was before, Katara thought, it was the past and the south, and it was Dad and Sokka and Gran-Gran and Bato, and it was the lingering presence of her mother and her childhood, and it all suddenly seemed so far away.

Her father had promised her that they would always be Polar Bear Dogs, they would always be a pack that would roam free, untamed. Katara hadn't been deaf to the criticism her father faced. Her nurses had told her that she was spoiled and wild, even though she could swing a club just as well as she could mend a coat.

Katara remembered a time when she was small, perhaps two years after her mother died, and she had suffered from bad dreams. Her father had taken her into his arms, Katara remembered that they had felt like the safest place in the world, and told her that she would be strong and loved. And then he had leaned close to her ear and whispered, "It is so."

Katara wondered what her father would do, if he were in her position. He would fight, she concluded, with tooth and nail and even if he lost, he wouldn't give in.

She crawled over to the door and knocked on it, pressing her head against the wood. "Guards..." she began and licked her lips, "I'm hungry."

After an infinite pause, there was a shuffling on the other side. "What did you say?" The voice on the other side said and Katara heard the slightest gloating tone. "Say it louder."

"I'm hungry," Katara growled and tightened her fists, glaring at the door and wishing that the firebenders on the other side could feel it. "I'm thirsty, okay!" She shouted and banged on the door. She could hear snickering on the other side.

There was another long silence and then the knob on the door turned. "There's just one more thing," the voice said and Katara recognized the sailor that had apologized. "You have to admit defeat."

Katara ground her teeth. It had been the one condition, to admit that the south had fallen and she had refused to do so. The south had not fallen, the Southern Water Tribe did not forget and it did not succumb. She watched as the sailor opened the door all the way, holding a fresh bowl of stew. The smell of it was lovely, so lovely that it almost made Katara sick to her stomach.

The young soldier stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her keenly. He entered the room and sat on the floor in front of her, legs crossed underneath him. "You'd rather starve yourself to death than admit defeat?"

Katara eyed the bowl of stew in his hands. "It's what we southerners do," she said and swallowed. "You're going to make me say it?"

The sailor raised his eyebrow in a way that reminded Katara of Sokka, pulling painfully on her heart. "No," he said and passed her the bowl, "I won't make you do that." He watched her as she tentatively raised the bowl to her lips, disregarding any use of a spoon. "You didn't have to wait five days, you're starving."

The southerner paused, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. The sailor pushed his visor up, showing his whole face. He was pale with black hair, and had yellow eyes. Katara had never seen a firebender in person before the...event, but she figured that his looks were the standard ones. "You don't look like your sister," he said, "she has white hair. And you don't act like her, either."

"She's not my sister," Katara said quietly, "She's the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. You've kidnapped the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe."

The young soldier's eyes widened. It would be a justifiable cause for war, Katara thought, and the North had Earth Kingdom allies. The North would swoop upon the Phoenix King and rescue them and Katara would go home and find Sokka.

Everything would be okay.

"This changes everything," the young soldier whispered and looked at Katara almost reverently. "I've never been this close to royalty before...I mean you're just _Water Tribe_ royalty but still." He shrugged.

Katara set the bowl down. "I need water," she said and the soldier frowned. "Please! And I need fresh air, I'm going to die in here." She looked pleadingly at him, hoping that he would take mercy on her. "Please!"

The sailor bit his bottom lip and turned his head. "Commander Zhao would never allow that," he said and looked down at his hands, "but he's going to be on the other ship tonight." He raised his gaze, meeting hers. "You have to _promise me_."

"I promise," she said and extended her hand. The soldier took it and they shook hands. Katara figured that Sokka, if he was even still alive, would be proud of her.

* * *

The moon was up.

Katara laced her fingers together, anticipating the feel of the moonlight upon her skin and ocean spray. She had promised, and the sailor had promised. She hoped that the spirits would decide to be kind.

"Let it be so," she murmured.

The tell-tale sound of the door unlocking caused Katara to straighten, forcing the broad grin on her face to fade. Air, she thought, fresh air and moonlight and the sea.

"They're teasing me," the young soldier said as he stepped inside, "they think I have a crush on you now," he looked strangely at Katara, "I'm not attracted to children."

Katara hauled herself to her feet. "You're a kid, too," she said and the sailor seemed deeply amused, a smile stretching across his face. "Aren't you?"

He laughed and took her arms, pulling them behind her back. "A precautionary measure," he said apologetically as he bound her hands, "and I'm a grown man if you haven't noticed." He pushed her gently through the door and along the passageway. "How old do you think I am?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, studying his features. "Seventeen," she decided, "Some people consider themselves grown at that age." Sokka had called himself a man and he was only fiffeen, but Katara figured that he didn't count.

The sailor shrugged, "Close enough, but not quite." He offered no further comment, marching her up a set of metal stairs. She saw a door in front of him, and the hum of the moon became stronger underneath her skin.

They approached the top step and the soldier cleared his throat. "You promised me," he said and opened the metal door in front of him.

The deck of the ship was cast in the silver light of the moon, its floor and rails turned white. As Katara stepped onto the deck, she felt her knees wobble. The ocean air sprayed against her face, cool and damp, and lovely.

Katara inhaled as the sailor released her hands. It had been too long since she had breathed fresh air, she thought. Since she had seen water.

Water.

The sea stretched out beyond, vast and untamed. The waves crashed and rolled together, tossing whatever came into contact with them. Katara had always thought that the ocean had a mind of its own; the ocean spirit, La, was capricious, having no loyalty to any seafarer.

"The Fire Nation capital, that's where you'll be going, has access to water on all sides. You won't be isolated," the sailor said, but Katara found that she wasn't interested in his words. She moved closer to the edge and the sailor caught her arm. "I have to watch you."

Katara closed her eyes and her hands tingled. She allowed her tense muscles to relax and raised her hands, forgetting the presence of the sailor behind her.

A tendril of water crept towards the railing on the ship, rising and spilling over the railing.

There would be no other chance.

Katara told herself she would not think, she would not feel. There would only be the water, only the water, nothing but the water...

She swept her hands up and snapped her wrists. The water came to her command, sweeping underneath the sailor's feet and throwing his balance. Katara darted away from him as he cried out. _Do not stop, you can't stop, it's now or never. _

Katara dipped at the knees and pushing her arms up. The ocean followed suit, rising in a massive wave that crashed down and propelled the ship. She could hear more shouting behind her as the other firebenders realized what was happening.

If she stopped, they would surely kill her. There would be no compromise.

"Stop!" The young soldier shouted and scrambled towards her, weighed down by his metal armor and soaked clothes. "You'll kill us all! Stop!"

Katara thought about Yue. She thought about Sokka and her father. And she thought about her home.

The ocean water followed her hands as she swirled them above her head. She brought the water down upon the deck of the ship and faintly registered screams as two firebenders were swept overboard. The ocean heaved and the ship rocked unsteadily.

The waves rose, high above the ship, and came down. Katara squeezed her eyes shut, listening to the screams of panic behind her and feeling the water crash against her clothes and her hair and her skin.

_The water. Nothing but the water. Only the water._

* * *

"This one's got winter in 'er bones. Or rather she did, if she's dead."

"She's not dead, you idiot, look she's breathing."

"Don't call me an idiot."

The voices came from above her, and seemed to be ear-splittingly loud. Katara winced, though she found that she did not have the strength to open her eyes. Her mouth was dry and every part of her body seemed to ache. She was laying on her back, on a hard surface, and a cool breeze was swirling around above her head.

"She's waking up," the softer voice said and Katara felt a cool rag press against her forehead. "Give her some water, Tan."

"She just almost drowned, I doubt she'd want water," the voice belonging to Tan snapped. Nevertheless, Katara heard the sound of water being poured into a cup and then she felt the rim of said cup being pressed to her lips.

Katara sputtered and coughed.

The other voice, soft yet androgynous, let out an exasperated sigh. "You're going to kill her." The voice moved to Katara's other side and warm, soft hands slid underneath her shoulders, holding her upright.

Katara opened her eyes.

Before her was a large man, with broad shoulders and green eyes that reminded Katara of the few living plants she had seen in the south. Supporting her was a thin woman with gray eyes, dressed in bright orange and green robes.

The southern princess flailed her arms, struggling to find her voice. At last, she managed to speak. "What happened? Where am I?"

The woman and the green-eyed man exchanged glances. The airbender guided the cup of water to Katara's lips and held it steady as she took a greedy sip. "Your...your ship capsized and you washed up in the bay," she pointed beyond, gesturing to what Katara could only assume was the bay she mentioned. "We found you."

"And everybody else who washed up," Tan said and the gray eyed woman narrowed her eyes. Tan shrugged. "What were you, a Water Tribe girl, doing on a _Fire Nation _ship?"

"I...I'm..." Katara bit her lip and looked at her rescuers. "I'm the princess of the Southern Water Tribe and those firebenders killed my father. They were taking me to the Fire Nation as a prisoner." Her hands shook, "I couldn't, I have to get home!"

Tan raised a dark brow. "You're a long way from home, little princess," he said. "You're in Chikyu Bay, in Banka-Kadi," he paused, "You're in a southern Earth Kingdom."

Katara gasped. "How do I get home?" She asked and moved to slide from the table on which she had been placed. "I have to get back home."

The woman's face wrinkled. "You have no concern for the lives of those who died beside you," she said sharply, "you can't go, you aren't well."

The princess shook her head. "I have to," she pleaded, "I have to. I can't stay here."

Tan scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat. "If you say that those firebenders killed your father, then you won't be safe there. If the south pole is anything like the royals in Banka-Kadi, then some new king has already taken your father's place."

Katara frowned. "That's not true," she argued, "my dad _was _the south. My family _is_ the south and I have to get back." She stood on unsteady legs, clenching her fists. "And I'll find a way back on my own," she said, "I have to."


	14. Across the Wall

_Hahn_

A horn sounded and Hahn rolled over in his bed, pulling his pillow over his head in hopes that he could recapture his dream of being surrounded by beautiful, scantily clad women.

Just as the image was about to reappear, a hard hand shoved him from his cot, ripping his blanket away as he hit the ground with a jolt. "Get up, princesses!" The chief's nephew shouted. "The Ice Wall doesn't wait for you to be well rested!"

Hahn opened his eyes, painfully met with the bright light reflecting from the barrack walls. The other men- criminals from all over the north pole, Hahn remembered with disdain- were silently doing the same, standing and pulling on their boots. "Technically," Hahn said, "the Ice Wall won't ever melt, so it has all the time in the world."

The chief's nephew, the head commander of the Ice Wall, leaned down to Hahn's level. "Don't get smart, Three," he said. He had taken to calling Hahn "Three" as his ranking as the third son in his family and Hahn realized that the chief's nephew hated him.

As in truly hated him.

Hahn stood and tugged on his boots. The chief's nephew had left him and was making his way along the line of beds, urging stragglers to speed up.

All things considered, his time so far at the Ice Wall hadn't been terrible. It was freezing and on the first day, he had gotten into a scuffle, but he had learned how to make a knot and operate the rig that sent them up to the top of the wall.

He was surrounded by criminals, but Hahn felt like it would give him more respect when he returned home. Hasook and Nilu couldn't say they lived with criminals.

"Three," called an older boy across from him, "what are you up here for anyway?" He asked and Hahn took note of the scar that rose from from his chest and ended at his neck. "Stealing?" He chuckled, "or did you get in a fight with ya big brothers?"

Hahn scowled. "Neither," he growled and cracked his knuckles, "If I had stayed, I would've killed a man." The lie grew as he continued to speak, "Last time I fought a man, I messed him up so bad he spent a month in the healing huts. A dozen little waterbending girls had to put him back together."

The older boy threw back his head and held his stomach as he bellowed in laughter, reaching over to punch Hahn in the arm. "If you never been anything else, you're a liar, Three. You might got all the training to be a warrior, but you're no more important than us in here," his smile vanished, "the Ice Wall doesn't play by the rules."

The far North had no rules, Hahn thought as the boys and young men filed out of the barrack. He knew that one of the commanders of the Wall were waiting for them, already prepared to give them their daily assignment. Those like Hahn had yet to find a niche that suited them. He was still learning, and he was no waterbender.

The commander with their assignments was a man prematurely aged, with graying hair and a youthful face, and Hahn thought he had old, sad eyes. Hahn wasn't sure how old the man really was, but he knew that he was called Piku and that he had seen spirits before.

Hahn joined the line waiting for their assignment. Operating the rigs was easy, and working in the stables sounded like it would be dirty work. Hahn had learned that his opinions on work were not to be shared, if the chief's nephew was to judge.

Piku looked up with his old, sad eyes from his parchment. He stared at Hahn and then glanced back at the paper. "You," he said, "You'll be going across the Ice Wall."

"What?!" The older boy exclaimed and flailed his hands, "what do you mean he's going across the wall?" He glared at Hahn, as if he figured that Hahn had some involvement.

Piku shrugged lightly, as if he could not muster enough energy to move deliberately. "The Chief Commander wants him to go across the wall, and so he'll go. Or he'll be cleaning up buffalo-yak stables." He tucked his parchment into a pocket in his coat, every move slow and small. Hahn wondered what crime he could have ever committed to end up at the Ice Wall.

The older boy turned to Hahn. "The Chief Commander always leads a group to survey what's going on beyond the Ice Wall, but most of them have been here for years before they even get to go across." He narrowed his eyes, "your precious mother and daddy must've paid for your adventure here."

Hahn couldn't resist rolling his eyes. "Or maybe the Chief Commander just sees my potential," he smirked, "I certainly have the training and the physique for it."

"The Land of the Ice That Never Melts doesn't care about training, and the foul-things don't either," Piku said, his soft voice suddenly rising with what sounded like anger to Hahn, "the spirits are as cruel as they are kind." His eyes glittered and Hahn saw the small man begin to tremor, "they are amused by us humans. Especially the ones like you."

He looked hard at Hahn and Hahn looked hard at him. Piku slipped easily from the door and disappeared down the main corridor of the barracks. Hahn turned to the older boy, his glare still locked onto him. Hahn shrugged his shoulders and left the barrack.

The air outside was frigid, and carried the smells of the mess hall near by. There were men and boys already gathered with their morning bowls, and a small group of waterbenders were slinging a sphere of water back and forth.

It was hard to believe they were criminals.

The Chief Commander, the chief's nephew, might have been a criminal as well, but Hahn figured that a member of the royal family wouldn't have been sent to the Ice Wall for such a long time.

Hahn took his place in the line outside of the mess hall, accepting the bowl that a nameless kitchen boy gave him. Two boys were shoving each other playfully in front of him and Hahn found that they reminded him of his brothers, even though Hasook and Nilu had always been determined that he would always lose.

Hahn wondered if his brothers had been involved in him being sent to the Ice Wall, if Hasook and Nilu had conspired with his mother and father.

"I'm going across the wall, too," a soft voice said, breaking Hahn away from his thoughts. Behind him was a short boy, though he had a soft face and girlishly long hair pulled into a warrior's wolf tail. "With the Chief Commander." The boy smiled when Hahn turned to face him fully, exposing white teeth with a small gap in the space between his two front teeth. "You're one of the new ones, ain't you?"

He shrugged.

"You are," the boy nodded to himself, "it's easy to tell, you got the look. The big eyes." He lifted his shoulders, "Well sometimes, people come here and they look dead inside, like they ain't got nothing to live for or to lose, and they might as well die up here on the ice. You don't, though."

"How comforting," Hahn deadpanned.

The boy clinked his bowl with Hahn's. "I'm Squid," he said and when Hahn pulled a face, he went on, "People call me Squid, I mean." He had an easy smile, natural and smooth as if it appeared often. "I've been here for three years can you believe that?"

"You probably kicked a baby polar dog didn't you," Hahn said as he moved forward in the line. "Or you probably just stole one."

Squid frowned, something that was not becoming of him. "No," he said casually, "I killed somebody." He laughed, "it was my father."

"Spirits," Hahn muttered under his breath. He was surrounded by madmen. "Everybody here is crazy."

As if to prove his point, someone behind him shoved Squid, the boy. He spun on his heel quickly, pressing his bowl into Hahn's hands before drawing back his fist, slamming it into the face of the boy who had shoved him. Hahn stepped back quickly, his eyes widening as the boy cleared his throat and turned back to him.

"Sorry about that," Squid said casually, flicking his wrist. Over his head, Hahn could see the unfortunate boy holding his nose. "Reflexes get sharp up here. The Land of the Ice That Never Melts waits for no one." He must've found that humorous, for he laughed and took his bowl from Hahn.

"You're insane," Hahn said and figured that if the boy got offended, he could probably take him on.

Squid laughed, so loudly and easily that Hahn thought he had been born with a gift for it. "Aye," Squid shrugged, "sometimes you have to be."

* * *

Hahn wasn't sure how, but he ended up sitting beside Squid when they were served their morning bowl. Squid, Hahn wasn't sure where the nickname came from, was talkative and spontaneous. Not at all how Hahn expected someone who killed their father to look and act.

"You know," Squid said began as he scooped up the last remains of his breakfast, "everybody here has nicknames here. I'm Squid and you're Three," he pointed to a boy sitting away from them, "and that's Sobber, because he cried when he got here, even though he used to run around with bad crowds back home." He scoffed, "He's not so big and bad anymore."

"And why are you Squid?" Hahn asked.

Squid shrugged and laughed again. Hahn traced his stare to the sight of the Chief Commander approaching them, redressed in a heavy parka and trekking boots. An entourage of similarly dressed men followed.

"You're the last of the group," the chief's nephew said sharply and the individual standing next to him threw a parka and pair of boots in both of their directions, "hurry up."

Hahn grimaced as he shrugged into the parka. The chief's nephew watched him sharply and Hahn remembered the day of his arrival, when the Chief Commander had taken him up to the top of the wall and had threatened to kill him.

The chief's nephew hated him.

Squid scrambled over to the group and Hahn followed much more slowly, feeling the Chief Commander's hard stare. "This will be your first venture beyond the top of the wall," he said as they joined the group, "and while we aren't going far, I cannot prepare you for what you might see. You might see spirits, you might see barbarians, or you might see nothing at all. You aren't in the city anymore."

The Chief Commander led them away from the mess hall, walking underneath the looming shadow of the Ice Wall. As they moved closer to the ice structure, Hahn could hear the consistent sounds of the rig and platforms, and of men moving along the wall. Squid walked close to Hahn, though he noticed that the boy had his chin up and chest out.

Confident.

"You know," Squid said and bounced on his toes as he walked, "I've been trying to read you," he looked up at Hahn, studying his features, "I think I know why the Chief Commander hates your guts."

Hahn rolled his eyes as the group stopped before one of the larger platforms mounted to the great wall. "Tell me," he said, "I'm _dying_ to know."

Squid's eyes twinkled with amusement, stepping onto the platform. "He hates you because you _are_ him," he said and outstretched his hands at the profound realization, "You're a third son and he was the always behind the chief, his uncle. You're him."

Beneath their feet, the platform began to crank and rise. "That...was the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Hahn snorted and caught the hard glance of the chief at the front of the platform. "He chose to stay on this wall of ice, I'm going to return home."

"Right," Squid said absently, "I forgot some people had that option." He watched as a waterbender stepped forward and bent at the knees, pushing apart a block in the Ice Wall and revealing a small hollow corridor cut straight into the ice. It was high enough for a man of average height to pass through without ducking their head, and wide enough only for one man to pass at a time.

The Chief Commander moved aside to allow the waterbender to step in front, pulling tendrils of water from the thick ice around them as they walked through it. Hahn watched him, and began to see the resemblance between him and the chief of the Northern Water Tribe. They had the same eyes, though Hahn didn't remember seeing such a sharp glare in the chief's. The chief's nephew reached for a club tied to his hip, grasped it, and moved forward.

The waterbender made a quick succession of hand and wrist movements, using the water accumulated from the walls to freeze it and form a crude set of stairs leading for the ground on the other side of the Ice Wall.

A cold, sharp wind blew by the opening of the hollow corridor, stirring Hahn's hair and causing his eyes to sting. Beyond him, he could see trees weighed down by years worth of falling snow.

It was quiet and ethereal, and Hahn felt as though they were intruding.

This was the Land of the Ice That Never Melts.

The Chief Commander stepped gingerly onto the first ice step and descended, moving swiftly yet deliberately, as if on edge. The men closest to him followed suit, their eyes darting back and forth.

"There's no danger," Hahn said and Squid turned to glance at him, suddenly solemn. "There's nothing out here."

"Yet," Squid said and followed the rest of the group. He was the smallest, though Hahn figured Squid was perhaps a year or two older than him. The corners of his mouth turned down, "Don't underestimate the north."

Hahn groaned, "There are sentries that can see us. If anything went wrong, we'd have backup in no time." He pulled his parka closed, feeling the chill ghost over his skin and settle in his bones. "What's even the point of this?"

They had began to move towards the snow-laden trees, pressing along the hard, snow packed earth. The Chief Commander drifted amongst them, sometimes in the front or sometimes behind everyone else. He walked silently, seemingly gliding across the earth.

"The point is, we've come to retrieve something," growled the waterbender walking alongside Squid. He was a gruff looking man, and thin. "Something important."

The trees overhead were much taller than Hahn first realized, their heavy limbs bowing and linking together to form a pristine white canopy above their heads. The undergrowth, too, had been bathed in white, devoid of color and adorned in glittering ice crystals. Hahn caught sight of a ghostly white flower, its petals remaining upright despite the weight of the ice upon it. He wondered if Princess Yue, the chief's daughter, would have liked it, he knew girls liked pretty things.

Just to the left of him, Hahn heard someone giggle.

He gasped and the rest of the group turned quickly to face him, gazes sharp and curious. Hahn cleared his throat and lifted his chin, "I heard something," he said, "at least I think I did."

"What did it sound like?" The Chief Commander asked and reached for his club, "did it sound like an animal or barbarians?"

Hahn shook his head, "It sounded like...like laughing," he admitted and he heard someone scoff. "I'm fairly certain it was laughter."

"It was probably just Squid," the gruff waterbender said and the men laughed, except for the chief's nephew. "No one giggles as much as Squid."

The Chief Commander grunted and continued walking. The others fell into step, talking amongst themselves.

"Probably just the wind," Squid nudged Hahn in the side, "it could've stirred the leaves. Or maybe it was just your head." He smiled, "maybe you're insane."

"No" Hahn said, "I know what I heard."

The laugh came again, the sound of an young girl, perhaps a child. It seemed to come from above this time, and Hahn looked up quickly, narrowing his eyes. The frozen leaves rattled and shimmered.

He saw what looked like a young girl leaping amongst the branches, looking down at him and laughing as she did so. Hahn followed her with his eyes, watching her as she gracefully sprung from limb to limb, her indigo gown fluttering behind her.

Squid tugged on Hahn's sleeve. "What are you looking at?" He asked and Hahn pointed towards the girl, who had stopped and crouched on a thick branch. Her eyes, which were too big for her round face, were an indescribable color. Not quite blue or gray, or white. Squid followed his finger and bit his bottom lip. "I see her," he said, "I see her."

It was then that Hahn noticed the girl was transparent. The leaves were visible through her, though her features were still defined. "What is she?"

The other men had stopped. The Chief Commander had lifted his head to stare at the transparent girl, who had tilted her head to the side curiously. "She's a spirit," the chief's nephew seemed to whisper, "this land belongs to her."

The transparent girl opened her mouth, and screamed.

The noise was anguished and shrill, ringing in Hahn's ears. She looked down at them and Hahn saw her teeth were sharp and deadly, teeth that did not belong in a human mouth. She screamed, and then she vanished.

The sound of her cry followed after her, bouncing along the trees before fading into a deep silence.

Hahn looked at Squid, and then at the Chief Commander, who seemed unaffected by the spirit girl's scream. The Chief Commander looked at him. "What was that about?" Hahn asked, figuring that the older man had all the answers. "If that's what a spirit looks like, then what is a foul-thing?"

"Sometimes they are one in the same," The Chief Commander growled and knelt, deftly plucking a frozen flower up from the ground. He twirled it in his fingers, running the pad of his thumb along the fragile petals. He took the frozen flower and tucked it safely into the pocket of his coat, looking up at the tree canopy. Then, in one fluid motion, the man leaped and grabbed a low hanging branch from the closest tree.

The gruff waterbender made a circular motion with his hands and the ice coating the branch peeled off, coming together in a thick sheet. He twitched his fingers and the sheet of ice folded onto itself. "Is this enough?" He asked.

The Chief Commander nodded and then swiveled his gaze around the trees. He took the block of ice from the waterbender, holding it gingerly. "This is enough," he said, "this will be sent back to the capital when we return. You'll be in charge of its delivery," he said to the waterbender. The Chief Commander held the ice close to his chest and turned on his heel, heading back the way they had come.

"There are people in the capital city who want samples of the ice that never melts," a man walking close to Hahn explained, "I don't know why," he said, "maybe for jewelry."

Hahn looked at the block of ice, noticing that in its center, there was a tiny sliver of violet. "Maybe," he said and thought about the transparent girl. Hahn didn't consider himself to be stupid, but he figured there was something he didn't understand. "Maybe."

Beside him, Squid nodded, a smile just on the corner of his lips. "You can brag now, Three. The third son who saw spirits and defended the north alongside me, Squid the Great." He laughed and punched him affectionately in the side. Even then, Hahn could feel the strength behind him and bit back a grimace. "We're goin' to make history, us two, trust me." And then he laughed.


End file.
